Final Destination  The Savior
by BTolson23
Summary: Gervais Jean, a visionary who only seeks profit and fame. How can such  person save the lives of many others? Can he possibly help find the solution to death, or will he sit back and enjoy the suffering of his cohorts?
1. Chapter 1

It's never the end. No matter who or what, Death will never give up. He plays his games and he intends to win. No one can escape his grasp, especially if they have been saved from their rightful death. But what can even Death do when someone knows exactly when and where he will strike?

**Final Destination – The Saviour – Coming Soon **

**(Hello Folks and Folkesses! What good would I be if I don't live up to the Final Destination decree of doing more movies? (or stories, in my case) That's right, I'm up and ready to start my sequel to Final Destination – The Ride to Hell. **

**IT WILL NOT TAKE PLACE IN THE SAME 'UNIVERSE' AS MY OTHER FD SERIES! Phew... I suppose I should tell you what it's about hm? A whole new cast of people to slaughter! Yay! In the end of Ride to Hell, we saw Rose realize that they wouldn't escape. However, even she couldn't stop herself. In the heat of the church accident, Rose managed to save one person who goes by the name 'Tom White'. **

**Please, no more characters... I already got THIRTEEN in that short a time... wow... so, all 13 of those characters are accepted, thank you, but no more.  
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	2. A Surprising Visitor

**(Right, I got characters much quicker than expected, (I got 15 in total!) not including Tom. I'll credit you all at the end of the chapter. Right then, let's read on, shall we?**

Tom White smiled warmly as he looked at his fiancé shaking her hair from her eyes. Rose Everdeen sat in a wheelchair, from the elevator incident a year before. Tom had also been injured, almost dying from a metal shard to the shoulder. Rose took a deep breath, wiping her eyes. Both were dressed in black, Tom in a black suit with a white shirt and Rose in a black dress. Around them stood a clear graveyard with beautiful worn grey gravestones.

"It's weird, isn't it?" Rose said as Tom pushed her wheelchair down the path. She glanced at a crane working on part of the church, before looking back up at Tom. "It's a place of death, yet so beautiful."

"Things can be... different sometimes, that's for sure." Tom replied, leaning down and kissing Rose on the cheek, causing a slight blush on her cheeks.

"Hey!"

The two turned at the voice to spot Katie Fraser hanging off James King's arm. Katie, while okay from the elevator incident, was now deathly scared of heights from an incident before hand while she was hanging from a flag to her death. James was sporting a fake wooden foot and half a wooden calf though that was hidden by his trouser leg.

"Katie!" Rose replied delightfully as their two old friends came over. "James!" Rose looked to Katie, straight in the eyes. "You finally got together then?"

"Hell yeah we did!" James exclaimed loudly, grasping Tom's hand and shaking it. "How you doing Tom."

"I'm good, James, thanks for asking." Tom replied with a smile.

"When's the wedding you two?" Katie asked.

"Oh, in around four months." Tom said, poking Rose in the cheek. "She insisted on going earlier, just so she..." Tom stopped and looked at Rose with narrowed eyes. She tried to cover up a sob and failed in doing so. A tear slid down her face. "Are you okay?"

Rose nodded. "S-Something in my eye. Come on, let's go see those graves."

The three graves the four went to see were that of Vincent Cold, Lucy Norman and Freya Holiday. Another victim who died was Harry Goldwater, though he was buried closer to his family.

"Do you reckon there's someplace else? For people that die?" Rose asked, looking much paler than before.

"Of course." Tom muttered in Rose's ear. "I'm sure they are living full immortal lives up there. But Rose, are you really okay?"

Rose let out a small sob. "I-I'm sorry Tom, we can't avoid it."

"Wha-"

Tom was cut off by a shout. "WATCH OUT!"

Katie was the first to glance up at a worker who was working the crane on the church. It took a moment to realise it was swinging towards her, but that was cut off as the steel girder crashed into her chest. Ribs broke, splitting the skin and causing blood to splatter over the shocked James and Tom. Rose merely closed her eyes.

"Katie! Katie, fuck, no, no, Katie!" James exclaimed, running over to Katie. In his mourning he missed the sound of creaking.

"James, move out of the way!" Tom yelled, but it was too late.

The crane rod had detached from the top, falling through the air. James looked up with tear-streaked eyes as the metal crushed him into the ground, reducing him to blood and gore.

The rod fell to the side, smashing into the side of the church, reducing rock to rubble. Tom quickly pulled Rose back, as the church caved in. It teetered, and instead of falling inwards the wall of rock fell outwards, straight towards Tom and Rose.

In an act of desperation Tom pushed Rose down the hill in the hope of getting her away from the carnage, although he knew he would die from the rocks. Tom was surprised, though, to find Rose's hand around his own, pulling him forward. Rose let go and her wheelchair spun down the path, with her crying audibly.

The rubble from the church wall just managed to miss his feet. Tom took a deep breath, before suddenly realising something. "Rose!" Tom got to his feet and looked down the path to find a scene of horror for him. Rose's chest had been impaled by three of the spikes from the top of the fence. Tom sprinted down the hill and grabbed Rose. "Rose, please, Rose, are you all right! Please tell me you're all right!"

It was no use. Rose was already dead, and oddly enough it looked like relief on her face.

Tom's cries of misery echoed around the area as the first people started to react from the accident.

**XXX**

It had been a year since Tom had been saved. Unlike some survivors who tried to prevent death by removing anything deadly from their homes, Tom just lived like he used to not caring if he died or not. Oddly enough, since the church accident, Tom hadn't had any near-death experiences. He had managed to get a job as a phone operator down in New York, as he wanted to get away from the bad memories.

However, the once nervous man had been changed a lot. He drank a lot of whiskey or other alcohol, he smoked, and he was practically digging himself an early grave. The apartment he lived in was dirty and unkempt, a large crack running through a half-working TV. The shower was broken, and he only cleaned himself using the sink.

Tom was a pathetic shell of his former self. Did he care? No, quite simply he didn't.

Lying in his bed at midday, Tom looked up at the ceiling. Wednesday's were his only days off and he generally spent them lying in bed. He lifted his hand up and stared at the ring. It was a simple ring brought for him by Rose. Despite being simple, it meant a lot to Tom. While he wasn't willing to keep hold of all the bad memories, he had kept the ring as a memento to his late finance.

_Knock knock knock._

Tom glanced to the door but didn't reply. Perhaps they'll go away, whoever it was.

_Knock knock knock. _

"Urgh..." Tom groaned and sat up.

_Knock..._

"All right, I'm coming! Shut the hell up!" Tom quickly pulled on a white shirt and opened the apartment door to come face to face with a tall and menacing figure of a dark-skinned man. He was wearing an obsidian suit complete with a tie, while a hat covered his bald head. "Who are you?"

"Whom indeed..." The man said in a deep tone, walking past Tom and into the apartment. "What a dreary place you have here..."

"Hey, you can't just walk-"

"Do be quiet." The man took off his hat and sat on the couch, leaning back in it. "So, Thomas White. Do you not recognise me?"

Tom couldn't help but feel intimidated and felt slightly nervous. "No, but can you please explain why you are barging into my apartment?"

"What about him?"

The man reached into his pocket and pulled out a collection of photos. He placed one on a coffee table. It showed a man with a large wound running through the middle of his face. It was quite clearly a large cut with bits of stringy muscle, though the blood was washed off.

Tom blinked in surprise and horror.

**XXX**

_Harry turned, and suddenly the fan smashed through his face, straight between his eyes. His skull was cleaved open, and blood and muscles splattered against the floor. Harry stumbled backwards, the fan lodged into his face, an eyeball hanging from a string of muscle from the pulp of face. He fell back, hitting the floor; dead before he landed._

_**XXX**_

"Harry?" Tom whispered, before glaring at the man. "All right, what is this?"

"What about her? And him?" The man placed more photo's on the table. One was off a hole in a girl's eye, another of some kind of mutilated neck. They all showed various people in states of death. Tom recognised all of them. The last three pictures were of the results of the church accident, with James, Katie and...

"Rose!" Tom stiffened and backed away. "Y-You're that mortician... aren't you? That how you got these photos. What was it...? William? Yeah, William Bludworth! Why are you showing me those? Why did you come here to America? To find me?"

"Yes. To find you." William said with a small smirk. "I am wondering why your picture is not with these pictures. Quite simply, I am wondering why you aren't dead."

"Luck." Tom wiped his forehead and sat down.

"Oh no, luck does not come into this situation. You haven't protected yourself. Even in this apartment I see many dangers. You drink. You smoke. Every other person would have died already. I once knew a woman who sealed herself in an asylum and she still wound up dead. Why are you alive then? It is intriguing."

"I really don't care whether I'm alive or not to be honest. Now get out of my apartment."

"I think not." William said. "I believe you are proof of my theory."

"Theory?"

"Yes. You see I have come to a conclusion that if someone takes the life of another person, they are taken off the list, temporally or permanently."

"What! Are you saying...I killed someone!" Tom exclaimed in horror. "How dare you accuse me of-"

"You did push Miss. Rose, did you not?"

_In an act of desperation, Tom pushed Rose down the hill. _

Tom opened his mouth, but shut it again. "I... I... you're not saying that..."

"Exactly. I am certain that Rose foresaw the accident at the church. She saw you three die. At the end, she got impaled on the fence and the vision likely ended there."

"No! She would have told us! Would have prevented it!"

"I'm sure she thought of it. I believe that Rose realized that death would hunt you down anyway. She didn't realize that she was going to survive the accident. Rose was going to live. You pushed her in her vision I bet, but you still died. In reality, she saved you once more. As a result of you surviving and combined with you pushing her, Rose was killed. You gave a life to Death and as such you are now living as Rose would have lived. All the evidence points to my theory being correct."

"Why..." Tom shook his head. "Why are you telling me this? Why did you come here? Just to prove to me your theory is correct?"

"Because I know that sometime in the future, another person will see an accident. They will save some people. If both of us explain to them this theory, we can save whoever these survivors are from a premature death. After all, if two people like us believe, then we will not be branded as crazy."

"You said they had to kill though? You'd just be replacing them with others."

"What if those 'others' were on death row? What if they replaced themselves with people who are doomed to die anyway? This way, the amount of accidents on innocent people will decrease. Essentially, we'll be saving innocent lives!"

Tom was thinking hard. "I think... I think I understand. I think... that would work." Tom looked into an amused William's face. "As I won't die for now, then I'll help persuade these people to replace themselves with those on death row."

"Brilliant. It's a matter of waiting for the news of someone saving others. By the way, I'll be living here."

"What?" Tom exclaimed. "You can't."

"No one will know." William set, unbuttoning his jacket and swinging his legs onto the sofa. "Now we wait."

**(I do like William. I am going to delve into his character a lot more I think. **

**Right, so, here are the credits and the list of characters who've been accepted. Also, I've got the 'accident' all planned out. **

**Jovianne Tablette + Gervais Jean – A Mosaic Masterpiece**

**Elliot Spikey – Premillenium **

**Kris Thomas + Zoe Anderson – zackt2010**

**Dominique Elizabeth + Samuel Jenkins – Death180h**

**Brandon Bittner – Patts9009**

**Scott North + Dalton DiLaurentis – CodyOnTheBounce T.V**

**Jessie Colons + Michelle Johnson – jamesss**

**Daniel Falcone + Sam Mariano – Angie2282 (Just because Paige survived my other stories doesn't mean these creations will XD) **

**Christopher Palacios – Pastaluver999**

**Woah... a lot of you like submitting a pair of characters XD Well, this'll likely be longer as I'm interested in working with the characters. **

**With that, I'll be updating every four days, and tata for now! **


	3. The Fated Victims  Part 1

**(Thanks to zackt2010, A Mosiac Masterpiece, Pastaluver999 and jamesss for the reviews! Right, I lied. I'm getting into this story alot so I'll be updating every two days instead of four. Good news for everyone. Also, this chapter, and the two after, will be introducing everyone (I split it into three so that it wouldn't be boring. Hopefully it's interesting. Anywho, read on! **

"Why do you come to this school again?" Samuel Jenkins asked as he and Dominique Elizabeth walked across the car park two hours before the school was due to start. Both were Senior's at 17 although that was likely one of two things that they had the same. The second thing was that they both loved figure skating. The feeling of gliding across ice, spinning and performing in front of live crowds, it made the both of them feel amazing after a performance. Dominique and Samuel were unlikely partners, although they were great at their craft.

Samuel was from a poor background, although not to the extremes. His mother generally got the main form of money from working at one of the big mainstream supermarkets, while his father got a lower sum of money from working as a taxi driver. Money was on the brink of being not enough. They could buy breakfast, lunch, and dinner but that was about it. The rest of the money went into bills or Samuel's figure skating. They actually were quite happy about Samuel doing such a daring activity and praised him, so it didn't matter about the money.

Dominique on the other hand was a from a rich family. Her father was actually one of the highest authorities in New York, with very good ties on changing the city. He was also popular, generally making well supported decisions. He had the money that, with a click of her finger, Dominique could ask for anything she wanted. Figure Skating for her was purely for the competition. Football and Rugby, that was more based on luck. She wasn't really into music or computers or track sports or anything like that. Figure Skating was all about the ability and the choreography. You knew that any mistake was either yours or your partner, and you accepted that fact.

It was only in personality and history they were different though, it was also in appearance. Samuel was average though generally referred as 'pretty' due to his natural long eyelashes and naturally rosy cheeks. Dominique was a perfect athlete. She had curves in all the right places, a smooth stomach and unflawed face. Heart-shaped lips covered a naturally white smile, while her icy blue eyes showed the pure determination in her mind.

"Daddy doesn't want to make me different from anyone else, and I'm glad of that." Dominique said as she adjusted the hair band making her silky black hair into a ponytail. "I mean, why should I got to a private school? No need to really. This school is good enough for me thank you very much."

"You don't deserve such a crappy school as this though." Samuel said.

"Who deserves anything these days." Dominique said, opening the doors of 'Greythorn Public School'. It was a multi-purpose school, from kindergarten all the way to Seniors.

"True." Samuel said as they traversed through the empty corridors. Dominique's father had arranged with the head teacher for the two to practice choreography in the gym before and after school for two hours. They went to the ice rink in the evenings when it was specially closed for them.

As they walked, they passed the janitor, Elliot Spikey. Elliot watched the pass with a small glare, before going back to mopping the floor. He was a janitor merely because it was an easy job, plus he wouldn't be discriminated against for his beliefs or look. Students merely glanced at him and that was all. Mind you, Elliot was a scary man anyway so he could've done something else if he felt like it. He stood tall, the tallest adult in the school. Elliot's dark brown eyes were covered by shaded glasses while his figure was thick and menacing. However, it was his deep and hoarse voice which but the cap on his overall image. Never joking or discriminating, never sharing a smile and never insulting Elliot was only serious and that was all he knew. The only other emotion was every evening to prayer for his mother.

Elliot put the mop in the bucket and shut it in the doorway, turning the key to lock it. The big man strode down the hallway, passing one of the physical education teachers with barely a nod.

Kris Thomas was a new teacher, only coming to Greythorn the year before. At 22, the girls though he was handsome. African American with lighter skin than most with dark brown eyes and a lean figure, Kris was perfect 'eye candy' for the girls. The boys looked up to him. He was practically their age, and was very enthusiastic about his job leading to entertaining sports sessions. While he mostly perfected in basketball, football and baseball, Kris enjoyed many other sports like swimming and tennis.

_'Always freaks me out...'_ Kris thought to himself as he glanced back at Elliot. '_Can't people have emotions anymore?'_

"Sir! Hey, sir!"

Kris looked up to find a student rushing towards him. "How can I help Jessie?"

"What time is the graduation ceremony again?" Jessie Colons asked. Jessie was a quiet boy who did well in class in exams. Not a genius, but likely to go into a good future. He likely did so well because he wasn't drawn into the gangs and cliques of high school because of his attitude, or rather, his history. After a major accident a year before, Jessie had turned from talkative and a smoker to distant and calm.

"In two hours or so." Kris said. "Why are you here so early?"

"Well, my dad had to go to work early, and my mum's away for the week so I had to come here early. Also... I wanted to see my brother on my own."

"Ah, I see." Kris nodded and patted Jessie's shoulder. "Just be careful of pranks. Trust me, when I graduated, goddamn, it wasn't fun."

"Sure." Jessie smiled and walked away. He was one of many who liked Kris and his almost comradely behaviour.

Jessie continued walking until he was outside one of the finely cut lawns. A whole collection of chairs had been set out, along with a podium set for the speech by the head teacher. Also was a large black stone coming from the ground with a golden plaque. It was here where Jessie headed and kneeled down. He stared at one name: _Adam Colons. _

"Finally graduation brother." Jessie said with a smile. "I'm sorry you're not here to enjoy it with me. I've upheld my promise to give up smoking. Haven't touched one since the accident. You know, I always ask myself why you were never lucky enough to be those survivors, but then it hit me. You were lucky not to survive. I mean, the accidents the survivors got into... as bad as it sounds I'm glad you died relatively quickly. I'll place a rose later when we honour the other students. See you around Adam."

Adam Colons was Jessie's twin brother. The two shared looks but had different personalities. At the time Jessie was more rebellious while Adam was very 'straight-edge', he didn't approve of Jessie's smoking habit and constantly sought to help his brother out. Always said that smoking will be the death of him.

Adam had been visiting England on a trip for two weeks as an 'after-exam present'. Jessie would have gone as well but he had contracted the flu and had to stay. It was two days after that he got the phone call that Adam was involved in a major train crash and wasn't alive...

A single tear fell down Jessie's cheek, but he quickly brushed it away and started walking away to a more comfortable place to wait for the school day to pass.


	4. The Fated Victims Part 2

**(Thanks ****to A Mosaic Masterpiece, zackt2010, CodyOnTheBounce T.V, jamesss and angie2282 for the reviews! Right, I've done some research on the American School System and I BELIEVE I got it practically right. As I'm from England though, forgive me for any mistakes please XD Anywho, let's meet the next batch of characters) **

"It was successful?"

"Yes it was, I'm so glad."

"Jovianne, that's great!" One of Jovianne Tablette's friends gave her a big hug.

Jovianne smiled, a smile which had earned the 'Best Smile of the Year' award in one of those silly school newspapers. "It's such a big weight off my chest. After mom... well, my dad wouldn't have been able to handle it and my sisters are too young to know what's going on. Poppy and Lily are only four, Casey's five... I suppose Amber is old enough at ten, but still..."

Jovianne lived in a rather large family. She had four sisters who were much younger than her (Amber was the second eldest, six years younger than Jovianne), though each was equally as beautiful, and equally as small. (Jovianne standing at 4' 11"). The fact that each of them had very... unique personalities made it a really hard time for the only male in the family, Jovianne's father. He didn't have permanent work and had to do odd jobs such as washing cars or cleaning windows to actually feed his family and give them education. They got by though, thanks to Jovianne and Amber having part time jobs. Amber was a paper girl, while Jovianne worked weekends at a store.

"Was it scary..." One of her other friends asked as they sat huddled around one of the benches outside Greythorn. "Knowing that you could've died."

"More than you can imagine." Jovianne said. "Having cancer... it's one of the worst things in the world. You know that at any moment you could be diagnosed with terminal cancer... and that's it. I personally think that because I didn't dwell on the situation and kept working hard at school that it went away. Smiling also helps."

"Do you... y'know, wish your mom was here?"

"Always do. However, as I like to say, no point dwelling on something that's done and dusted. I... I hate that she's gone, but I – and my family – just can't afford to be distracted by her death. It's hard enough trying to live with the income we have."

"I didn't want to ask you before, but now you're cleared... how much did it hurt having her die a month after you were diagnosed?"

Jovianne shrugged with a smile. "It hurt a lot. She was such a careful driver. It wasn't her fault. I'm glad that man got charged with manslaughter."

**XXX**

"Man... they are hot as hell." Gervais Jean grinned as he looked over to Jovianne's group as they chatted. "The hair, the eyes, the curvy figure..." Gervais whistled to himself. "Man..."

"You in love?" Gervais was punched on the shoulder by Dalton DiLaurentis.

"What is love, really? If you're talking about getting them in the bed for the night and get laid... then yeah, I'm in love."

Dalton smirked and shook his head. Both young men were at school were graduation which would start soon. Well, it would actually start about two hours after the bell. When the bell rung the students and parents were allowed outside to the grounds.

"What about your girlfriend?" Dalton questioned.

"Meh... good for the rack but that about it. I'm breaking up with her today anyway-"

"You're breaking up with me?"

Dalton smirked as Gervais muttered, "Oh shit..." Gervais turned to face his girlfriend, Mary Helms. "Yep, that's right."

"How-How could you! It was going so well... it was..." Mary's eyes were starting to shine with tears.

"Woah, woah, woah, go cry somewhere where I can't see you. Crying girls are not hot in the slightest." Gervais said with a wince.

"You... you asshole!" Mary swung her hand around and slapped Gervais hard, before storming off in tears.

"Can't say you didn't deserve that." Dalton commented.

"Shut it." Gervais said while rubbing his cheek. "Now girls will practically run into my arms."

It was true. He was the 'hottest bad boy in school' to most girls. Light brown hair and eyes combined with his slightly ripped body and killer smile made all the ladies swoon at his feet.

"Sure thing shortie."

"I am not short!" Gervais snapped.

Dalton waved his hand high about Gervais' head. "5' 5", hell yeah you're short mate." Dalton pointed at his own figure. "Me? I'm the perfect package. A click of my fingers and I have ten girls climbing all over me."

If Gervais was the 'hottest bad boy', Dalton was a 'Handsome Devil'. He had chestnut brown hair swept to the side in style. Taller than Gervais at 5' 9" and just about as muscled, Dalton was generally fierce competition to Gervais. However, the thing which made the girls choose Dalton was his sapphire blue eyes. The glint and shape of his eyes pretty much highlighted his handsome and charming figure. To many he was seen as somewhat of a playboy figure, but Dalton didn't search for girls. He was actually searching for a man, though for less... romantic reasons.

Dalton was searching for a killer. Had been searching for five years. The police and his family always said that 'he got away' but Dalton never gave up. He knew that somewhere the evidence was there, or a witness, or somebody saw the young girl get murdered on the street.

Dalton found his sister the morning after, thrown in a dumpster with serious stab wounds all over her body. This enraged Dalton to the point where he would do anything to gain information. Despite being a young man, he knew that with enough determination he would be able to do it.

"You okay?" Gervais asked with an eyebrow raised.

Dalton nodded. "Yeah fine."

"What time is it?"

Dalton checked his watch just as the bell rung signifying the start of the school day. Students and parents alike filed into the school, ready for lessons or the graduation ceremony.

"Waiting time I guess."

With that, Gervais and Dalton joined the mass crowd.

**XXX**

One hour into the school day, a Freshman was sitting in class, doodling an explosion in one of the books, complete with the guts and gore of those caught in it. Brandon Bittner was a typical horror lover. From Resident Evil to Saw, he loved it all. The blood, the guts, everything made him excited. Despite being only 14, he could pass for 18 with the right clothes so he could sneak into theatre's to watch premieres. This was the only 'criminal' activity he did though. Anything not related to a horror movie, he was proper and well off.

Brandon was the kind of guy who makes a lot of friends, but doesn't have many best friends, if at all. With his dark black hair, black jeans and a red shirt with skulls on it, Brandon looked like a fairly cool kid to be around, at least for Freshman. He also wore a black watch with a glow-in-the-dark skull under the face. It was his favourite watch and he wore it wherever he went.

Brandon glanced at his watch and saw there was 15 minutes of the lesson left. He inwardly groaned and glanced back to the maths paper. Geez, why did they have to have end of term exams? He was going to be a Sophomore after the summer holidays, which he was looking forward to. No more being looked down on as a 'Frosh'.

He sighed in annoyance. He had around ten more questions to go. It was a simple algebra question, at least for some people. Algebra was complicated for Brandon. He found it hard to register the numbers. Writing down an answer he wished that he was two years older. If he was, then he would be able to ask the 'school genius' what the answer was.

Scott Avery North was the name of the student, and at 17 he was already predicted the highest marks. In every exam he got 100%, in every on-the-spot question he answered it easily. Scott was the perfect student for the teachers. He would have been targeted by bullies, had it not been for the fact he was a star lacrosse player. This had earned him the respect of the jobs who would have otherwise bullied him. Star student in practically everything, Scott deserved the respect he was given. Yet... his obsession with getting perfect grades made him somewhat of an outcast. His friends feared that the perfection was taking him over, and most were scared off it.

Scott's appearance was nothing to laugh at either. 6' 1" and 187 lbs of mostly muscle, Scott could knock the biggest man down quickly and expertly. His mysterious caramel brown eyes often surveyed and analyzed everything around him.

However, not even Scott could analyze or predict the events that would take place at the end of the school day.


	5. The Fated Victims Part 3

**(Thanks to zackt2010, jamess, and A Mosaic Masterpiece for the reviews! Time for the last batch of characters, as well as a pretty good indication on the start of the accident. Well, what are you waiting for? Read on!)**

"I'm so glad you made it Zoe."

"Hey, your students are graduating." Zoe Anderson said with a shrug at her mother, Jane, who happened to work at Greythorn. Zoe raised a camera. "Also, I can get good pictures."

Both mother and daughter looked alike. Shoulder length wavy hair which was dark brown with a slight mix of auburn. Zoe had a braid to the side and parted her fringe to the left, while her mother had it tied back it a more professional manner. They were the same height at 5' 6" and also preferred the same clothes when dressing casual. One would have thought they were sisters had it not been for her mother's obviously worn face.

"I'm glad to see them gone to be honest." Jane said with a smile. "That class took me to hell and back."

"I'm sure it wasn't all bad."

"No, of course not. Having pins put on your chair by a brat isn't all bad. Having your picture taped across a playboy magazine-"

Zoe coughed, her eyes bulging from her head. "Excuse me?"

"Apparently they are 'attracted' to me." Jane scoffed. "I'm just a teacher. They insult me anyway, calling me a 'Milf' whatever that is."

Zoe chocked again, leaning against the wall. "Geez... you're quite popular then. Slightly disturbing that people only two years younger than me are attracted to my mother... but oh well."

It was nearing the end of the day, and graduation had officially ended. People had got their degrees, some were happy while others were distraught. Now students were chatting to parents and generally having a good time with refreshments. No one was leaving yet.

"Oh, by the way..." Jane whispered. "The coach is looking at you."

"Eh?" Zoe turned to see Kris innocently turning away. "Oh, he's pretty young. I always expect these rugged military types."

"He's only two years older than you."

Zoe raised her eyebrows. "You're not seriously setting me up with one of your co-workers are you?"

"You need a man in your life. I'd rather be a grandmother sooner than later."

Zoe blushed, but shrugged. "Hell, I'll go talk to him. Could be interesting."

Zoe and Jane had a very friendly mother daughter relationship. They weren't afraid to tell each other problems, and while most would be afraid to tell secrets after 15 or so, Zoe was always reliant on her mother. They generally teased each other like young friends.

"Hi, I'm Zoe, nice to meet you." Zoe said, sticking her hand out to an obviously surprised Kris.

"Uh, oh, I'm Thomas. Kris Thomas."

"Oh, are you a savvy spy?" Zoe asked with a small smile.

"What?" Kris faltered.

"Y'know. Like Bond. James Bond?"

Kris laughed. "Not really into technology me. Wouldn't make a good spy."

"What do you do, well, other than teaching anyway?" Zoe asked and started walking away with Kris walking alongside.

"Sports... that's about it." Kris shrugged. "Also I – Christopher! What are you doing out of class!"

Zoe followed Kris' gaze to a peculiar teenager, 16 or 17, sitting in the shadows watching the people. His eyes were quite large, though he looked like he hadn't slept in a while if the deep bags under his eyes were any indication. Christopher smiled with crooked teeth at Kris.

"I wanted to watch... grad-u-ation..." Christopher said with a small giggle. "B-Because you as in U... Hehehe..."

Kris blinked, before tapping his watch. "There's still ten minutes till the end of the day."

"Nine minutes... actually." Christopher said, glancing at his watch. "Well, eight minutes and fifty... no, forty-nine... ah, no..."

"Look, I'll be lenient with you. It's the end of term after all. Stay inside until the bell rings, okay?" Kris asked.

Christopher nodded and inspected his fingernails causing him to smile.

Kris watched for a moment longer before sighing and jogging back to Zoe who had started to walk away.

Christopher Palacious was an odd child at best. The smallest things entertained him, while his mind was awhirl with thoughts. Some thought it was autism or some other kind of disease, but the doctor's were confident that it was merely an active imagination. Christopher wasn't bullied, merely because he was so strange. People didn't want to be seen or even be around him. His jokes never made sense and were sometimes awkward, he was easily distracted, and if he even had a nosebleed or bumped into something he would freeze up.

Christopher had two big phobias. The freezing up from bumping into something was from a very high phobia of dying. With a loving mother who protected him from anything harmful, Christopher grew up not knowing pain. He saw himself as ignorant, and always asked people if death hurt. By not experiencing much pain and always asking that same question the fear of death had developed and blossomed within him.

The second main phobia, which also caused him to freeze up, was rather strange. He loved animals. He thought they were cute, with floppy ears and small paws. However, the moment he sees an animal in real life, the fear takes in. Something about real moving animals shook him to the core, while he loved to look at pictures.

Christopher didn't move from his spot in the shadows, and started fiddling with a keychain. It was a small cartoon rabbit, causing Christopher to let off an amused laugh.

**XXX**

The cartoon rabbit was large and bright across the petrol tanker, holding a petrol can in its paws. The Tanker was about the length of two cars, and stood as tall as two cars on top of each other. The petrol tanker had recently restocked with petrol, and was travelling to deliver it. Well, it was going to deliver it. Now though, because of a wrong turn by the driver he was stuck in the road which happened to be just by Greythorn. The driver cursed. It had been ten minutes already and still the road people he called hadn't come. A beeping caught his attention, and the driver glanced behind the tanker to see a man giving him the middle finger from the window.

"Come on you goddamn prick! Some of us have to be somewhere!"

A cigarette hung from Daniel Falcone's mouth as he glared at the driver. Daniel was definitely the kind of man you didn't want to aggravate. Above average height and muscular, Daniel looked as if he could knock you out in one thick punch. With a tattoo on his left arm, one ear pierced and a constant frown on his face, Daniel looked arrogant and angry, which was exactly what he was.

Daniel tapped on the dashboard in annoyance. However, because he was so busy concentrating on swearing at the driver, he, nor anyone else, noticed a metal shard from one of the road signs digging into the side of the tanker, embedding into the metal.

"Hello? You listening to me!" Daniel called out, sticking his head out the window. "MOVE!"

Another line on the opposite side of the road was starting to form, going straight past Greythorn. From Greythorn car park was a jam as well, since people were starting to leave from the end of the school day but no-one could actually get anywhere.

Sam Mariano heard the shouted and sighed. Some people could be so impatient. Impatience caused mistake. Mistakes caused death. This was generally Sam's type of mind. However, because of this, Sam was completely calm. Slow breaths, no distractions, just wait, listen, and be ready to move.

Everything about her was calm; it was true, though there was a sense of iciness or coldness at the very least. From her straight black hair to her blue eyes to the scar over her eyebrow, Sam looked as if she would be more suited as a boarding school teacher than unemployed.

The calmness was caused by an accident when she was a little girl. A car crash, which also gave her the scar and killed both mother and father. It was a careless mistake caused by impatience.

Sam looked in the mirror and saw that a woman behind her was glaring at her, funnily enough, impatiently.

The woman was Michelle Johnson. A young woman barely out of school, she was outgoing and popular by those who knew her. She loved to make friends, and tried to make friends whatever the status. Where some would ridicule the unfortunate, Michelle offered both a hand in friendship and a smile.

That was Michelle Johnson's personality a week ago at least. A bank heist caused her to change. Cold and snappish, Michelle had taken up drinking as a way to drown her sorrows. The sorrow of witnessing both parents being brutally gunned down. The man had gone crazy, shooting practically everyone in sight. Many died, but it was thanks to Michelle hiding behind a thick wooden beam that she survived. The man had been killed on sight once armed police made an arrival.

There were few survivors, all of them shell shocked. None had relatives injured other than Michelle, making her one of the most severely effected. She had only left hospital a day ago, and while she knew she shouldn't be driving, she needed to buy more drink. It was her only solace.

Oblivious to everyone, the hole in the side of the petrol tanker was leaking a lot of petrol. A thin puddle was expanding, hitting the front wheels of both Daniel's and Sam's cars. Across on the path, Jovianne Tablette was talking on the phone to her father.

"Sorry about the noise dad. Some petrol tanker is stuck in the road."

"_It's fine. Call back later, I think the signal's bad here anyway." _

_ "_Okay then. See you." Jovianne switched off the phone and looked up when another shout of annoyance was heard, belonging to Daniel.

"I can't move!" The driver of the tanker said looking at Daniel in irritation. "Physically I cannot move my truck."

"Useless sack of shit." Daniel cursed, flicking the still lit cigarette out of the window. At that moment, a powerful gust of wind went over the road, making the lit cigarette glide sideways where it hit the leaking petrol immediately igniting it.


	6. The Accident

**(Thanks to jamessss, CodyOnTheBounce T.V, zackt2010, and A Mosaic Masterpiece! All right, so this it! I have to say, this accident is going out of my comfort zone. I'm used to stadiums and the like. Nevertheless, I hope it lives up to expectations. Right... let's see the order then, shall we? Read on!**

As the petrol tanker was blocking the road, it meant people couldn't get out of the car park, and parents couldn't come in to pick up students. As such, some were waiting outside knowing it would take a while for the jam to clear itself. Christopher was fiddling with his chain by the wall while Scott had headphones on, trying to concentrate on an essay in all the trouble. Kris and Zoe were still talking together, considering they couldn't actually get out if they were in their cars.

"Hey hey, saw you crying you damn cry baby." Gervais smirked as he jumped over a pit of rebar – for some new construction project – and stood in the way of Jessie.

"My brother died in the accident. It's only natural." Jessie said, trying to walk away. "Now, I've got to go."

"Oh no you don't." Gervais grinned, grabbing the back of Jessie's shirt. "You see, this'll be the last time I see you. I'd like to make it... memorable."

From behind Gervais, Dalton shook his head and sat down on a bench. "Well, you definitely have time to do whatever you want with all the cars blocking the road."

As Gervais teased Jessie, Elliot watched from a lawnmower, considering he was mowing the flat expanse of grass. He would have loved to tell Gervais off, but considering he was a janitor, he didn't have the right to tell people off on school grounds. Gervais in particular would ignore him. If it was outside school and wasn't doing a job, then Elliot could give them a piece of his mind.

Other students were milling around the front of the school. The young Brandon was looking extremely bored as he leant on a pillar. Both Dominique and Samuel were outside, unable to concentrate on practicing with all the noise from outside. They decided they were going to take the ice rink early.

"Useless sack of shit!" Daniel cursed all the way from behind the tanker, flicking the lit cigarette in the air. A gust of wind could hold of it and caused it to hit the leaking puddle of petrol. Daniel watched for a moment in bemusement as a flicker of flame covered the ground, before the petrol tanker exploded.

Fire burst out both ways, engulfing the front of Daniel's car, burning him to a crisp in an instant. From the other side, Sam couldn't help but lose her cool as she watched the flame approaching. Someone's impatience caused th- Sam's thoughts were cut off as the flames smashed into her car, causing it to fly into the air and flip, landing top first on Michelle's car, breaking the young woman's neck and killing both.

Then both Daniel's and Sam's car exploded, causing the start of a chain reaction of explosives which led all the way to Greythorn car park.

From the sidewalk, Jovianne watched dumbly as the Petrol Tanker exploded in a burst of heat, knocking her to the floor. Then she realized the danger as screaming started to overtake people realizing the situation. Jovianne stood up just as Sam's car exploded, causing a massive wave of flames to hit into her and rip at her skin.

Oblivious to the screaming and explosions, Scott was still working on his essay trying to work out a problem. But even listening to calming music couldn't cut off the sounds completely. Annoyed, Scott ripped his earphones out in an effort to see what the noise was. At that moment a car's windshield was blown outwards, the glass shredding his chest and face, popping an eyeball and cutting his neck open in a flash of blood.

"Holy shit..." Kris muttered, backing away.

"We got to go!" Zoe said, grabbing Kris' arm and pulling him away. An explosion from the side knocked Zoe to the ground while Kris remained standing.

"Zoe, are you-" Kris was cut off as a bonnet spun through the air fast and cut through him, sticking into the wall. Kris' top half remained standing atop the bonnet in the wall, while his legs crumpled to the floor. A small bead of blood dripped from his lifeless lips.

Zoe turned pale and was about to scream, but was suddenly crushed to the floor by a fiery engine. With her ribs, lungs, and a lot of internal organs crushed, Zoe couldn't find the strength to even scream as the flames caught on her clothes and enveloped her in a fireman's nightmare.

"Will I die? Will I die? Will I die?" This was all Christopher could say to himself as he stared at a large cut on his wrist, showing the bone. Frozen stiff from fear of death, Christopher was scared behind belief. To die, to have everything just end, it was too much for one boy to handle. Before Christopher could ask 'Will I die' once more, the answer came to him in the form of a spinning tire which reduced his head to a pulp with a bright red sheen on the pillar behind. Lifeless legs collapsed, dragging a headless body to the ground.

Everywhere screaming was heard, and quickly cut off by explosions from the mass of cars trying to get out. Driver's tried to reverse to escape, but only killed other students and ultimately themselves. Still, the chain reaction of explosions continued, going from car to car like a domino set from hell.

Elliot Spikey stared, unable to move. Everything was dull as sweat fell down the middle-aged man's face. Clutching his heart, Elliot realised that he was having a heart attack. The situation was just too much. Still on the mower, Elliot tried to get off and move but an explosion next to the rebar pit prevented that. One of the rebar poles was flung through the air, before impaling Elliot through his hand and heart, killing him instantly. With a spasm, Elliot's foot hit the acceleration pedal.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck!" Gervais cried out as he, Dalton and Jessie all ran down underneath the school's porch area. All bullying and teasing was forgotten as all three ran away.

"Shit!" Dalton cursed as his foot caught and he tripped, landing face first and turning on his back. Sitting up, clutching a bloody nose, Dalton caught sight of the mower – and Elliot – heading straight for him. Dalton's eyes widened for a moment, before the mower hit the pillar and overturned, sending the spinning blades straight into his face easily breaking apart the skull and ripping the muscle. A combination of skull shards, grey matter, and gore splashed against the walls and floor in a bright pattern.

One of the old blades cracked and suddenly snapped from the spinning motor. It flew through the air at high-speeds, fast and deadly, heading straight for Gervais and Jessie.

"Dalton!" Gervais had turned to see where his friend was, but instead saw the flying mower blade. In an act of desperation he grabbed Jessie's shoulder and pulled him back behind him. The mower blade embedded itself deep into the back of Jessie's head, spreading blood all over Gervais' face.

"Holy..." Gervais muttered, before turning around and sprinting away from Jessie's body. However, Gervais didn't realise he was heading for the rebar pit until he tripped. Gervais tried to twist in the air and fruitlessly tried to grab at the sides of the pit, but that didn't stop the rebar poles impaling his body in multiple places. Gervais tried to say something, but his mind wouldn't respond.

From behind the pillar, Brandon watched Dalton, Jessie's and Gervais' death frightened beyond belief. Despite watching horror movies and enjoying inventive deaths, beyond a doubt Brandon never expected to be involved in something like this. He was only 14 for Christ's sake!

A sudden crash caused Brandon to dive away from the pillar, which had just been hit by a car chassis. Thankful the pillar stopped the car from hitting him, Brandon gave a sigh of relief. That sigh was quickly cut off as the pillar teetered and fell downwards, crushing Brandon under a layer of rock.

Most explosions were done now. Screaming was useless and had quietened down. Bodies after bodies lay littered around the area in various states of being dead. Few survivors were stumbling around now.

"Dom-Dominique?"

Dominique groaned as she clutched her leg. It was broken, the bone protruding from her skin. However, when she saw Samuel she shouted in fear. The bottom half of Samuel's body was crushed under a car as his hand reached for Dominique.

Neither Samuel nor Dominique could see that the car's engine was still burning. Dominique grasped Samuel's arm just as it went limp.

"Samuel!" Dominique cried, tears running down her cheeks. Then the last car exploded, flames, glass and metal burning and cutting Dominique into a bloody mess.

Then it was quiet. All cars had exploded or otherwise been destroyed. All screams were stopped, as there was no-one left to scream. The whole front of the school had fallen down in the wake of the explosions, caused by the many shockwaves.

Lying back first on the ground, Jovianne Tablette was breathing hard. Her chest, face and arms were burnt severely, the clothes attaching themselves onto her skin. With a heave she managed to get to her knees, and finally to her feet. Jovianne stumbled forward, unaware or not caring where she was going. All she could see were bodies as if shouting out at her.

Elliot with the rebar in the heart, the headless figure of Christopher, the demolished face of Dalton, the twitching hand of a dead Brandon underneath the wreckage of the school walls. Jovianne saw everyone as she continued stumbling through the bodies. She saw Dominique splayed out from a car, body broken and twisted. The charred corpse that was once Samuel.

With a groan, Jovianne fell to one knee. Unable to talk, Jovianne tried to crawl to safety. Instead she passed the rebar pit and caught side of Gervais' impaled body. Tears in her eyes, Jovianne's arms collapsed and she fell face down to the floor, still facing Gervais. Then Gervais blinked.

Gervais watched from the pit as pain coursed through his body. Jovianne was staring at him, eyes covered in tears before they went dim. Gervais blinked once more, before slowly closing his eyes and letting the darkness overwhelm him.

**XXX**

Gervais stumbled after jumping over the pit of rebar, falling to his knees with a gasp.

"Smooth." Dalton sarcastically commented.

"...the hell...?" Gervais muttered, looking around. He saw Jessie walking away, Brandon by the pillar, Elliot staring at him in the mower. Gervais got up and glanced around, spotting different people that he had just seen.

"Hey, Gervais. What's the problem?" Dalton asked.

"Shut the fuck up man... we're gonna die." Gervais' eyes latched onto to Jovianne talking on her one. "W-We're going to... shit..."

"Excuse me? Die? I have no idea what you've been smoking but-" Dalton was cut off as Gervais stomped away and pushed straight past Dominique and Samuel, knocking Dominique into the wall.

"Hey, watch where you're going!" Samuel exclaimed, grabbing Gervais' shoulder.

"Shut the fuck up!" Gervais snapped, swinging around and punching Samuel in the cheek causing Dominique to gasp in surprise.

He could stand seeing teasing, but physical abuse? That was going too far. Elliot got off the mower and started walking over to Gervais.

Gervais glanced at Elliot, the sudden image of the rebar through the heart invading his mind.

"Fuck..." Gervais shook his head and suddenly sprinted away. He didn't go far as he was rugby tackled from behind by Samuel.

"What the hell to you think you're doing!" Samuel exclaimed, drawing the attention of a number of students, as well as Kris and Zoe. They started to crowd around the two in interest of a fight.

"Get the hell... off me!" Gervais pushed Samuel off of him as sweat trickled down his face. "You don't understand you son of a prick." Gervais shook his head. "You want to die? I just... god fucking damnit!" Gervais punched the wall before seeing Daniel arguing with the driver of the tanker. "I have to stop it..." Gervais started to run again, before turning and glancing at the crowd of students and teachers. "Get on the field! If I don't prevent it you'll all die!"

"Gervais, please, what is the matter." Zoe's mother asked.

"I don't have the time." Gervais was feeling completely confused. He had no idea why he wanted to save these people. He wasn't close to them by any means. However... seeing certain people specifically die, Gervais felt he had to.

From the road, Sam was looking out of her car at the argument and the teenager quickly jogging away towards the opposite side of the tanker. A cold wind seemed to brush past her. Not overly superstitious, Sam was still wary and something made her decide to get 'on the fields' as the teenager had said. Sam quickly got out and walked briskly over to the group.

"You should listen to him." Sam said as she walked over, earning a couple of glances. "that boy is serious. It is better to be safe than sorry." With that, Sam walked over to the field and sat at the far end, watching the group exchange glances. Slowly, others followed. Brandon quietly followed Sam first, following by Jessie. Dalton shrugged and started walking towards Sam.

"Come on." Kris grabbed Zoe's arm and dragged her away to the field. Zoe turned to her mother.

"Mom?"

"This is foolish. I got some work which needs to be done." Zoe's mother turned away.

"Samuel, let's go. I feel something is going to happen." Dominique said, tugging at Samuel's wrist.

Samuel sighed. "Will it make you happy?"

"Well, it would make feel safer, let's go."

Shortly after Samuel left, Scott picked himself up from his bench in slight annoyance. With all the noise he just couldn't concentrate. Placing his stuff in his bag, he quickly walked away in the complete opposite direction muttering things such as: Bad work environment and idiot.

The last person to head off to the small group hanging around the field was Christopher, muttering something about not wanting to be hurt.

With the excitement gone, people started to dispatch waiting for the Tanker to move.

**XXX**

"You!" Gervais exclaimed, walking towards Daniel who was just about to flick his cigarette. Daniel turned around.

"What the hell do you want kid?"

"Don't drop that." Gervais panted, pointing at the cigarette.

"Eh? Looking out for the environment? Fuck off. I ain't into the environment." Daniel smirked and flicking the cigarette into the air.

"You idiot!" Gervais went to grab the cigarette but was suddenly smashed in the gut by the car door Daniel swung open.

"Don't you DARE insult me kid." Daniel hissed, getting out of the car. Gervais watched in horror as the cigarette flew through the air. He quickly got up and sprinted away just as the tanker exploded.

Daniel turned around only to be completely covered by flames, burning at his skin and clothes.

Gervais stood up but quickly recoiled after Daniel's car exploded. He remembered about Sam's car, and quickly looked to see it was on fire. Behind Sam's car was Michelle, looking shocked.

"Shit!" Gervais sprinted and opened Michelle's door. Michelle gave a surprised gasp just as Sam's car burst into flames and flipped in the air. Gervais grabbed Michelle's arm and just managed to pull her out as the burning chassis crushed the top of Michelle's car.

Gervais boldly picked up Michelle and dragged her away to the fields as more explosions went off. Gervais managed to get Michelle over to the group as the explosion's continued.

The group looked on in horror as the car park turned into fire and metal and corpses. Gervais panted, horrified yet glad he managed to save people. It wasn't like him, but what else was he going to do?


	7. Please Help Me

**(Thanks to A Mosaic Masterpiece, angie2282, CodyOnTheBounce T.V, zackt2010 and jamessss for the reviews! This story isn't going to be a simple 'people try to stop their death' affair. I'll be going into histories, personalities, and all that fun stuff. Hopefuly it shan't be boring. With that said, let's not forget about William and Tom. Read on! **

"_100 people have already been confirmed dead and the body count is rising in the accident which happened just over an hour ago at Greythorn Public School. This was started by a petrol tanker according to witnesses. A number of survivors have been confirmed, apparently 'saved by a boy'. The boy in question, Gervais Jean, is being questioned by police as an 'important witness' having previously confirmed that this incident was indeed an accident. Reports suggest, that Mr. Jean had... foreseen the event before it happened and-" _

The TV turned off and William Bludworth grinned, facing Tom who looked quite shaken at the images.

"See. Thankfully it was not too long until this happened. Your couch is rather uncomfortable." William stood up and pulled on his jacket. "Come along Thomas. We have to talk to Gervais first so that he does not make any unfortunate mistakes. Then we can work on persuading the other victims."

Tom took a deep breath, looking shaken and wouldn't move. He just stared at the screen.

William sighed and clapped a large hand on Tom's shoulder, brining him out of his reverie. "Thomas. Do not dwell too much on this. If everything goes as planned, only people who are on death row will die."

"Exactly William. If it goes as planned. You're plans don't really work out, do they?" Tom challenged, expecting an angry outburst.

Instead, William continued to smile. "Trial and error, Thomas. Trial and error."

"Trial and damn error? Are you kidding me? These are human lives we're playing with here. You talk about people dying because they're supposed to. What's to say that these people aren't supposed to die there? Isn't that what this is? An accident? People die every day; you of all people should know that."

"You are correct, of course. They are supposed to die there. Just as you were supposed to die at that train accident. However, if a human has a chance of getting more life, would he deny it? Nobody is that pure, Thomas. You saw the photo of Mr. Jean. He is young and likely just graduated. He has a whole future ahead of him, a job, a wife, children. Yet, just in one 'accident' it is all thrown away. Would you willingly leave them to find out the hard way just how bad the situation really is? Once Mr. Jean starts seeing things, once he realizes that death is hunting them, he will be looking for answers. Will you just stand back like a coward, Thomas?"

Tom was silent, still staring at William in thought.

William sighed. "As you know I am a mortician, Thomas. I have seen innumerable dead bodies. Arson, murders, accidents, natural causes. I have grown accustomed to the amount of death in a single day. Let me tell you something. The worst thing in the world is having a child being rolled in on that stretcher. What could they do about their death? Nothing at all. They are new to this world. Gervais Jean is essentially new to the world as well, coming out of education just today. You can help him survive, Thomas. You can prevent more children being rolled into my morgue."

"Still... I..."

"Okay Thomas. We will be making a detour before we go to the hospital. Come with me."

**XXX**

The journey was quiet but fast. William was driving in a Rolls Royce, fitting into his persona. After only ten minutes, he came to a stop and got out of the car.

"What... what are we doing here?" Tom asked as he stared at an iron wrought gate which indicated just where they were. A cemetery.

"Follow me." William said as he walked through the gates. "Thomas, when I was a young man, I was also interesting in the aspect of death. I didn't fear it, I respected it. I was always interested in just what was after death. Was there actually a heaven, or was there a blackness? I quickly came to the conclusion that religion is essentially fearing death. They hope for something after death because they are scared of the blackness. Scared of something they have no control over. Even after I came to that conclusion, I was naive."

William was now striding down the cobbled path towards the back of the cemetery.

"My grandparents had died before I was born, so their death's never affected me. My mother died at childbirth and my father left before I was born. I grew up in an orphanage."

"Why are you telling me this?"

"To make you see reason, Thomas. I also had an older brother. His name was James. Unlike me he had no interest in death. Preferring to party, drink and take drugs he ignored it. I accepted his reason. Like many others, he was scared. Despite his drinking, despite his drug habits I fully expected for us to grow up and be happy. He'd drop his habit and we'd have nice families and make our name grow. Yet, I had my first experience with death when I was only eighteen. My brother was nineteen."

William finally stopped and stared down at a faded grave, around forty years old. The words were still clear though. It simply said:

_Rest in Peace_

_1953 – 1971_

_James Robert Bludworth_

Thomas was silent, taking it in.

"As it stands, my brother didn't die as a result of drugs or drinks. He died because of an accident. An accident I could have prevented." William looked to Tom completely serious. "Don't you see, Thomas? James is around the age of Gervais. James could have lived a wonderful live but I couldn't save him in time. We have the chance to save someone in time, though. We can save Gervais Jean, and the survivors. Why do you think I spend so much time trying to help survivors? I told you back when you were with Rose that I had talked to those other survivors who were visionaries. I gave them advice because quite simply I didn't want them to die prematurely. I am a proud man Thomas, but please, help me save the unfortunate. You are living proof of my theory, and if you help me persuade these survivors, they can go on to live the lives they fully expect to live."

Tom gulped, before slowly nodding. "I can't exactly say no after that. I didn't realise what a past you had."

"I didn't become a mortician just because I was interested in death." William's smile was back again, as if the previous conversation had never taken place. "Now, let's go to the hospital and figure out this list."


	8. Finding Infomation

**(Thanks to zackt2010, jamesss, Patts9009, angie2282, and A Mosiac Masterpiece for the reviews! Have to say, Gervais is so fun to work with. He is so different from the usual visionaries, as you'll see more in this chapter. Read on (Don't worry about deaths, I got one planned coming soon which is fun). **

"So, how did it feel? Did your mind tell you what had happened? Have you been talking to yourself lately?"

"Shut the hell up. I ain't crazy." Gervais growled, glaring at Dalton who was leaning smugly against the wall. He was now wearing a black jacket over a grey t-shirt, which fitted with the black shorts and black sneakers. The straps of a grey bag hung over his shoulders while grey fingerless gloves were fitted on his hands. The light blue crystal necklace hung over his shirt.

"Of course. Everyone see's visions of people dying." Dalton shook his head. "Talking of which, why did you ask me to come to the hospital with you?"

Gervais shrugged. "I'd rather not get bored out of my skull to be honest. It's bad enough being questioned by the police. They told me to make sure that I was here to see if that goddamn bastard guy survived. I swear, there making me out to be some fucking messiah. Praise be, Praise be! I don't give a fuck about Daniel or whatever his name is. Saw a vision, woopty-fucking-do."

"Mr. Jean?"

"Yeah?" Gervais looked up from his seat to see a doctor looking solemnly at him.

"We are afraid to tell you that Mr. Falcone just passed away." The doctor nodded his head. "We understand you tried your hardest to save him from that explosion. You are a very brave young man, Mr. Jean. I'm sure Daniel would have wanted to thank you."

Gervais opened his mouth to say a snappish remark about not actually going to save Daniel when an internal smirk grew over his mind. Gervais cleared his throat and put on a sad voice.

"I-It pains me... that he's gone. Just one of many that I couldn't save." Gervais rubbed his eye. "I'm just glad I managed to save those that I did. Whatever that vision was, it helped save the lives of innocent men and women. I hope Daniel is in a better place right now."

"It would mean a lot to him I'm sure. Thank you."

"No, thank you for trying to hardest to ease his pain." Gervais coughed. "Now, if you excuse me, I... I got to go."

"Of course, I understand."

Gervais stood up and quickly walked out of the waiting room, quietly followed by Dalton. Once they were clear of earshot, Dalton leant towards Gervais.

"You are one son of an asshole for sure." Dalton said with a smirk playing on his lips.

"A man's gotta do what a man's gotta do, huh. The police have already said that the media would be waiting for me. Let's hear it for the man 'who saw'!" Gervais grinned as the two came to the open doors. "Glad I took drama back in freshman. I'll tell you right now, I'm gonna need to use a lot of it."

Gervais pushed open the doors and was immediately met with flashes practically blinding him. His eyes adjusting from the constant flashing, Gervais saw a large group of cameras and reporters. He turned to Dalton and let off a quick grin before putting on a said expression.

"Gervais! Gervais, is this a message?"

"How did it feel? Saving those you saw died?"

Gervais bit his bottom lip and put up a hand. "Please... I... don't want to talk about it for the moment."

"You are such a brave man Gervais!"

Before anymore comments could be made Gervais found himself dragged to the side by a pretty woman with made-up hair. "Hi! I'm Mary, and it would mean a lot to us if you came to our talk show. There would be a considerable amount of money in it for you."

"While I'll gladly accept the offer, it isn't about the money." Gervais said after a brief pause. "I will come onto you're talk show merely to give my condolences and describe my experiences. Now, tell me more."

Dalton watched Gervais leave with the talk-show agent and shook his head as the crowd followed. '_Sneaky little bastard.'_

**XXX**

Five minutes later the black Rolls Royce pulled into the car park. William and Tom got out, squinting slightly in the sunlight.

"If I'm not mistaken, that is Gervais there isn't it?" Tom said, pointing over to the far side where Gervais was deep in conversation with a young woman as the cameras flashed around him. "What's he doing?"

"Oh, that corrupt young fool." William shook his head in slight disgust. "We won't be able to pull him away from the cameras for the time being. We will have to wait until he is alone. I'll be able to find his address easily enough." William sighed and watched as a fire engine rushed past, sirens blazing. "In my experience, the first on the list doesn't die until a couple of days after the accident unless they died at the scene. I rather hope there are some survivors in the hospital."

"Survivors? Are you talking about that school explosion?"

William and Tom turned to see a young man with a crystal necklace. He extended a hand towards William. "My name is Dalton DiLaurentis. Are you a reporter?"

"No, far from it." William said.

"Good, good. You see, I'm a survivor that you talk about. Rescued from the school explosion by Gervais over there. Yet you see he's a silly young man who is exploiting a major accident. If you want someone to talk to with an unbiased view, I'll tell you I'm the man."

William smiled a gleaming smile. "Dalton, you say. My name is William Bludworth. Please, walk with me."

Dalton nodded and followed William as Tom trailed behind silently.

"Do you believe that Gervais saw a vision?"

"Well, yes. There is no other way really that he could know how it would happen."

"I see. In that case, did the accident happen as he saved people or after."

Dalton furrowed his eyebrows. "Well, the first explosion happened after the confrontation with another person who actually caused it – by accident."

"Oh? Is that person alive?"

"No. He died around five minutes ago or so according to a doctor." Dalton replied interested in what William was saying.

Tom looked thoughtful as William came to a stop at a bench and sat down.

"Did Gervais save anyone after that, or were the only survivor's already out of danger?"

Dalton thought back and then nodded. "Yeah, he managed to get a girl out of a car two back from the explosion. Close escape though."

"Two cars back? What about the first car?"

"That woman got out when Gervais started to alert everyone."

William grinned as he got that answer. "Do you know this woman's name?"

"No chance. I am... was... a student. She's a stranger."

"In that case, what did she look like?"

"Uuh... black hair. Blue eyes. Kind of average clothes I guess." Dalton took a breath, and then suddenly clicked his fingers. "Yes, there was a scar over her... left eyebrow. I remember seeing it as she walked past."

"Good. That's all I need to know about that. Two more things though. Do you have Gervais' address?"

"Yeah, I do."

"Can you write it down for me? Also, your phone number. I'll need to contact you later."

Dalton shrugged and grabbed a piece of paper and a pen offered by William. After scribbling down the aforementioned information he handed it back to William causing him to stand up.

"Why did you want to know that?"

"To save lives."

"Eh? What do you do then? Are you a doctor or were you lying about being a reporter?"

"No. I'm a mortician. Thank you Dalton." William nodded and walked away, leaving Dalton in a rather confused state.

"So... you think this girl with the scar over her eyebrow is the next on the list, as the other guy died?"

"I am certain." William replied as he walked through the hospital doors.

"Now what?"

"Now, I'm going to find out where she lives."

"Eh? How can you do that?"

"She has an injury that is a scar, so she likely went to hospital."

"How do you know it was a serious injury? Plus she could have gone to any hospital."

"Dalton said the scar was noticeable. That means it was large enough to be seen by a glance. Second, I know she has lived here for a time. Average clothes, black hair. This girl doesn't want to stand out. If she didn't stand out to someone like Dalton, it means that she has lost any originality she once had. She has been in New York for a fair amount of time. It could be any hospital, but I may as well start here."

William moved to the reception desk as Tom frowned.

"How would you get the information?"

William just grinned and slapped a hand on the receptionist's desk causing the small receptionist to jump. He reached into a jacket pocket and pulled out a laminated card. "Hello. My name is William Bludworth. I'm a mortician. I'm here to pick up the body of a woman with a scar over her left eyebrow. Unfortunately the phone lost signal and I'm on a rather tight schedule, so I don't have much time."

"Uh, I'll check the records." The receptionist quickly went into a back off as Tom gave William a questioning glance. A few minutes later she came back. "There isn't a record of a deceased woman of that description."

"Oh? Well, the doctor did inform me in advance and said it was almost certain she would pass away. Is it possible she survived? Can you check the records again?"

The receptionist nodded, slightly afraid and once more came back a couple of minutes later.

"There was one person, but it happened around five years ago. Sam Mariano was involved in a car crash, which killed both parents."

"That can't be the right person. Sorry, I must've got the wrong hospital." William nodded and walked outside the door with Tom on his trail. Out of sight he faced Tom with a grin. "Human minds are so easy to manipulate. Now it's a matter of finding this Sam Mariano's address."

"You think it's the woman?"

"Might be. Might not be. Only one way to find out. Come on." William strode towards the Rolls Royce followed by Tom.


	9. Rest in Soft Peace

**(Thanks to angie2282 and zackt2010 for the reviews. Right then, so let's get on this first chapter which lets some events unfold. Read on!)**

Sam Mariano shivered as a faint wind passed down the back of her neck. A light drizzle had started, causing her hair to cling to her face in an uncomfortable manner. She was walking to clear her mind, and had taken to going around the block. That was generally her route when she went jogging as well.

Just behind the close-knit building row she lived in was a nice park area. Tall trees, lush grass. It helped a lot to think in this kind of environment.

Yet, all Sam could think about was how close she was to dying, in a car accident no less. Shaking her head, Sam continued walking down the path in the park. At the sound of sirens she looked up to see a police car speed across the street, red and blue lights flashing.

Biting her lip, Sam continued on. This was most unlike her. She was feeling... nervous. Sam hadn't felt this way for a long way. She was calm and collected, but why was this so different?

'_You survived again, that's why._'

Sam's thoughts were cut off as something whipped into her face. Hey eyes widening she looked to the side to see a young man looking apologetic. He was holding a dog lead which had whipped into Sam's face.

"Oh, sorry, uh... I'm really sorry."

"It's fine." Sam said, looking at the young man.

"Really? Oh... you haven't seen my dog, have you? He ran away and I need to find him."

"No... no, I haven't."

"Oh, too bad. Well, I'll be going then. Sorry again!" The man ran off, drenched to the

bone.

Sam shivered again, before exiting the park by a small fence and curving around until her street was in sight. Walking past parked cars and other people, Sam walked towards the middle of the block, where her house was. As she walked, she passed scaffolding. For the last week, builders had been hard at work repairing the roof of the neighbour's house, or something like that. It must've been something big, because large spools of metal wire were placed at the base of the ladder. It was the sort of wire used to strengthen specific types of construction.

Sam walked past, and failed to notice the wire catching onto her leg. It was only the sharp scratch which alerted her less than a minute later.

Wincing, Sam looked back at the sharp prick of pain to see the wire dragged across her leg. Sighing, Sam calmly bent down and unhooked the wire from her skin and left it on the path. The wire had unravelled around two metres or so. Thinking about putting it back, Sam declined her thoughts and arrived to her house. Once again she missed something as a gust of wind blew the wire onto the road.

Opening the door, she walked in and hung her coat on the door before catching site of herself in the mirror.

'_God... I'm a mess.'_

Sam pulled her fingers through her hair and looked at her eyes. They blinked back at her, icy and intelligent. Then they drifted to the scar over her left eyebrow, watching the cool scar run up diagonally. Sam touched it lightly _and screamed in pain. _

_ Blood ran down her face and in turn on her fingers. Panicking, Sam snapped her head to the front seats, where the motionless bodies of her parents were slumped forward. Her mother leant against the steering wheel, while her father's head had bounced of the passenger's door glass, cracking it. _

_ The front of the car was also smashed completely, as a result of the lorry. It had gone head first, crumpling the bonnet. Then the car had spun off the road and..._

_ Sam cried out, trying to move from her seat. _

_ Despite being 10 years old, Sam knew a bad situation. This was very bad. Her forehead was cut, she was strapped in... Sam sniffed despite herself. Petrol. _

_ Panicking even more, Sam managed to unhook herself and lunge forward to her parents. She immediately caught site of her father's lifeless eyes. They were dim and the usually vigour was missing. His mouth was slightly open, blood leaking down his chin. _

_ Despite herself, Sam found her chest tightening hard. Knowing it was impossible, she placed her fingers on his neck just like she was taught and..._

_ No pulse._

_ Letting out a cry Sam drew back, covering her mouth. Taking a deep breath, she quickly looked to her mother. It was the same story. _

_ Then the passenger door opened. _

_ "My god, are you okay? Can you hear me? Come on, let's get you out of here." _

_ Thick hands grabbed her shoulders and Sam found herself being gently, yet firmly, dragged out of the car. _

_ "Mommy! Daddy!" Sam _drew back, her back hitting the wall.

Breaths coming in jagged alterations, Sam fought for control, clutching her chest. Finally she controlled her breathing and stumbled into the next room. That was vivid... why? She never had anything like that happen to her. Feeling the scar pulse, Sam collapsed onto the sofa and laid her head on the pillow. She needed rest, that was easy to understand.

Still... Sam liked to know the news. Liked to know what was going on about the city. Grabbing the remote, she flipped on her TV.

"..._Officials are still going on route for the suspected Arson attack at McKinley Hotel. So far no casualties have been reported, with only a few injuries. Police urge any witnesses to..." _

Sam switched the channel. That was the main story, but she wasn't interested in ongoing news. She preferred to have full stories.

_Knock, knock, knock._

Sam jolted upright at the sound of the knock on her door. Cursing inwardly at being so jumpy, Sam stood up and walked to the front door and opening it.

No-one was there.

Furrowing her eyebrows Sam looked left and right, her eyes only making contact with a Rolls Royce down the street where two men were getting out. Then her gaze turned to a young man running down the street.

Sam sighed, turning around to go in. Then she caught sight of the two men coming straight towards her, as well as a police car turning around the corner, sirens flashing. Obviously for that arson attack.

The police car sped down the street. The driver didn't notice a faint scratching sound as the wire from the construction site hit the inside of the wheel and started spinning. It was thin and strong wire, and as the police car sped forward it continued to roll out of its large spool as the police car passed Sam.

"Are you Sam Mariano?" One of the men called out, a dark skinned tall man.

"Ye-"

Sam was suddenly cut off at a flash of grey. It snapped towards her face and then disappeared behind her. She blinked for a moment, feeling completely odd. Then, thin red lines extending in a circle around her head, ear to ear.

"Ms. Mariano?" William was close now. However, when he saw the red lines he froze. "...too late."

Sam raised her hand as if to reach out to William when the top half of her had folded backwards in a grotesque smile. It hit the ground with a small _plop_.

Both William and Tom froze as Sam's body fell to its knees, before falling to the side, blood already mixing with the rain.

Tom held a hand to his mouth, pale.

"Damn it!" William cursed, to the shock of Tom. This wasn't the calm William. "Why did it have to start so suddenly? Gervais should have got a clue about her death..." this caused William to narrow his eyes. "Gervais... we need to have a talk with our visionary. He has already caused the death of one person I'm sure he could have saved. I'll call the ambulance." As William pulled his phone out, he knelt down next to Sam's top half of her head, where her eyes stared out as if confused. He slid her eyelids shut, murmuring, "Rest in Soft Peace, Sam Mariano."


	10. Finding the Second

**(Sorry for the delay folks! Thanks to A Mosaic Masterpiece, angie2282, Jamesss, zackt2010, and Lance-Dusk for the reviews! A couple of things before we start. 1) I have now watched Final Destination 5, and I think it ties with FD 3 in being the most awesome one yet. 2) I'll confirm right now that this story WILL be a trilogy. Finally 3) After that third story, I WILL finally start my Eyptian Heritage properly. With that said read on! **

Gervais was sitting on his bed, massaging his scalp. After quick negotiations he had agreed to go onto his first talk show, which would take place mid-day the next day. After driving home (Using a car his father gave him for his 18th birthday), he had another vision. Well... Vision was a bit vague. More like a series of images. The images had been haunting him ever since he received them.

Gervais sighed, standing up and going over to his computer. What was wrong with him? Usually he'd come home in a bluster, quickly head off to his bedroom to read his 'stash' but... now he was feeling sluggish... no, not sluggish. Sadness...

Gervais slammed his fist on the desk in annoyance. He shouldn't feel this! He was Gervais goddamn Jean! Ladies man by trade. Going onto the internet, Gervais' homepage popped up – a news site. Despite himself, Gervais found himself enjoying the news. It was usually the bloody ones he enjoyed, like the man who got mauled by a bear, or -

"What the hell?" Gervais leaned in to the screen at the 'breaking news' article. He clicked on the picture and enlarged. There was no doubting it. That was the girl from the accident. A faint breeze blew across the back of Gervais' neck, sending shivers down his spine. Gervais exited the picture and read the article.

_A stray wire has been the cause of one of the most gruesome accidents in recent times. Sam Mariano (20) was the unfortunate victim of an accident on King Street. A wire was somehow caught in the tire of a passing police car which flung the wire into the victim's face. She was confirmed dead on scene. _

_Sam Mariano had previously been the survivor of the explosion at Greythorn School, which was 'seen' by Media Sensation, Gervais Jean. _

_More on this article as information is revealed. _

"Shit..." Gervais muttered, biting his lip. For some reason, he knew that that vision was about her. It must've been. A Wire and police car? No doubt.

There was a sudden knock on his door, causing Gervais to stand up in surprise, looking around for something as a weapon. A knock on a door wouldn't have been strange, had it not been for two things. For one, his parents were out, for the second, it was his bedroom.

"Who's there?" Gervais called out, not nervous at all. In some ways, he also wanted to confront a robber. Perhaps this was their way of seeing if anyone was in the house?

The door-knob twisted, causing Gervais to stiffen and grab a baseball bat which was leaning against the desk.

Then the door opened, revealing a tall and balding black man. He walked firmly toward Gervais.

"Woah, stop right there or I'll-"

William just grabbed Gervais on the shoulder in a vice grip and swatted the baseball bat from his hand with the other. "Gervais Jean."

"What the fuck! Who the hell are you? What are you doing in my house? Get the fuck outta here!"

"You saw something less than an hour ago, correct?" William asked calmly. "Something, I will assume, about a wire, construction, or a police car, yes?"

"How the... How did you know about that?" Gervais asked, trying to pull William's arm away but failing miserably.

"I have seen this before, Gervais. Let me tell you right now that Death... he doesn't like to be cheated. He has already claimed his first become in Sam Mariano."

"Death? Oh, I see. You're fuckin' crazy, right? Alzheimer's or some shit like that, yeah? Well you better remember that you're an old man!" Gervais suddenly flung his weight forward to knock William down. Instead William twisted his hand and turned around, throwing Gervais on his bed. Gervais rolled and hit the floor. Scrambling to his feet he looked completely freaked out. "Look, just... just calm down, yeah? I... How much do you want? 100? 200? I can give it to you man, I can-" Gervais suddenly bolted for the door.

However before he could reach it Tom appeared in the doorway, pushing him back by the chest. Gervais stumbled and fell onto his rear. Now his eyes positively sparkled with fear. Tom wasn't that big, but still taller than Gervais. Combine that with the tall and threatening William made it a very scary experience.

"Woah, two on one? That ain't fair man, that ain't fair! Come on, what'd I do to you, huh?"

William looked down at Gervais, the smile on his face once more. His previous outburst after Sam's death was all but gone. "Gervais, let me put this simply. You saved a group of people from an accident. These people should have died, but they have not. Now, Death is hunting them once more. If you can't put together the pieces, these people with die. I told you before; Death does not like to be cheated."

"Death? You talk about Death?" Gervais shook his head. "Look, so your druggies right? I'm not a dealer, I don't have any."

"Gervais, I don't want drugs. I want a list."

"A list? Now what you talking about?"

"I want you to note down the order that the survivors of Greythorn School died in, okay? First was Daniel Falcone, then it was Sam Mariano. What is this list? It is vital."

"Uh... will you let me go if I do that freaky thing for you?"

"Perhaps." William's eyes practically bore holes in Gervais' mind set.

"All right, geez, fine. I'll do it you goddamn bastards." Gervais scrambled to his feet again and looked for a pen and paper.

**XXX**

In a Layton's Michelle Johnson rose the bottle to her lips and took a swig, placing it back on the table.

"Miss, you shouldn't really drink from the bottle." The bartender said, his eyes looking down at the clearly already drunk girl.

"Uh-huh, yeah, all right." Michelle went to hand the bottle back to the bartender, but then pulled it back to her chest. "No way! I ordered a bottle I'll... I'll get a bottle you goddamn..." Michelle swayed on her chair, before grinning at the bartender. She pulled herself forward and leaned against the bar. With one hand she pointed at her quite visible cleavage. "Yeah? You like it? You want to hit it? What am I saying, of course you do! Everyone does!"

"Miss, I believe you've had enough to drink."

"Hey, you aren't a life therapist, are ya? No way, you do your job and give me my drinks... you fuckin..." Michelle took another swig of the bottle and glanced around the bar. It was empty, save for the bartender. "You know what?" Michelle grinned and stood up. "I think... I think I've had enough... enough of this damn bar. I need myself some... lone time with me and... this..." Michelle grinned and slammed her hand on the bar.

Unseen to both people in the bar, it shook it slightly, causing the bottle top from Michelle's bottle to fall off the side of the bar, in front of the back door which led to the offices.

"I'll... see ya hot stuff." Michelle blew a kiss to the bartender before walking forward and promptly slamming face first into the door. Falling to rear, she let off a small laugh. "Fuck me sideways I'm drunk..."

"Miss, I hope you are getting a taxi." The bartender called out as Michelle finally managed to open the door.

"Sure, of course..." Michelle said, closing the door and walking down the path to the car park. "Not." She pulled out the keys to her friend's car and stuck her middle finger at the bartender's direction. "Fuck you sunshine."

Michelle stumbled to the car park, swinging her hands as she went.

**XXX**

"There you go, that's what you want, right? I didn't know some names cause they were strangers or something."

William snatched the piece of paper and scanned it.

_Blonde hair girl_

_Scott North_

_Mr. Thomas_

_Weird girl talking to Mr. Thomas_

_The Freak_

_Spikey the Janitor_

_Dalton DiLaurentis_

_Jessie Colons_

_Bradley or something_

_Those figure skaters_

_Jovianne _

_Me_

William hid his frustration though Tom's jaw physically dropped.

"There are only eight names here, three of which are actually full names."

"Sorry man, I just graduated." Gervais shrugged. "If it helps, Mr. Thomas was the sports teacher. Oh, and Spikey kind of looked like you. Big, Black and a fuckin' asshole."

"Funny." William replied dryly. "Have you got any information on the blonde haired girl, considering she is next?"

"Next? I've had no idea what you are talking about still, but I don't know much about her... uh, well... I don't think it's important."

"Anything is important." William said.

"Well, her breasts were –" Gervais whistled, causing William to shake his head.

"What?" Gervais protested. "I'm an 18 year old guy, can't I –"

_A word was suddenly flung forwards which said Layton, before it disappeared and was replaced with a bottle. Then a giant crack followed by a loud screeching sound. _

Gervais' stopped halfway, his jaw hanging slack.

William noticed this and immediately grabbed his shoulder again. "What did you see?"

"I-I saw a word: Layton, and then a bottle... and a crack and a screech of some kind? Is that important?"

"Layton... shit, that's useless." Tom cursed, stroking his hair.

"Layton, could it be Layton's Bar down a few blocks?"

"Take us there. Now." William said, pushing Gervais through the doorway and then following.


	11. A New Life

**(Thanks to zackt2010, Lance-Dusk, A Mosaic Masterpiece, jamesss and Angie2282 for the reviews! I've actually written quite far ahead, and while the chapters alternate wildly in length I have to say I'm please with what I've written so far. Anyway, let's read on! **

Michelle was sitting in her car, hands gripping the steering wheel. She knew that she shouldn't drive, she knew it but... who cared, anyway? She had a license. _Doesn't help when you're drunk.  
><em>Ignoring her inner voice, Michelle started the car which allowed a small rumble to fill the area. Going to accelerate, Michelle found her foot wouldn't follow through.

"This is... a stupid thing to do..." Michelle groaned, turning off the engine and leaning back in her chair. "What would mum and dad think of you now, huh?"

Sighing, Michelle climbed out of her car before a great bout of depression suddenly hit her like a fist. Bending over, Michelle fell to her knees and was shocked to find tears flowing down her face.

"Shit..." Michelle muttered, biting her bottom lip. It seemed all the misery she had tried to ignore by drinking was coming to her in one severe attack. Her hands shook, sweat covered her skin and her teeth chattered. Cold. Lonely. A lone gazelle in a world of lions. "Mum... dad..." Michelle clenched her fists as she remembered that deadly day.

He came in with the gun, demanded money. They didn't agree and he went mental. The robber shot everyone in sight. Michelle could remember clearly her father on his back and her mother on her side. Her mother's eyes stared deep into her mind.

More than ever, it was the sound of the bullets. The echoed in her head, a constant attack on her psyche.

"Miss, are you okay?"

Michelle looked up through teary eyes at a scruffy looking man. "Does it look like I'm okay?"

"I'm Tom." Tom said as he leant down and grabbed Michelle's arm. She didn't resist, just let Tom drag her up. Her grabbed her around the waist and started walking towards the bar. "Did you survive that accident at Greythorn by any chance? I think I recognise you."

"For what good it did me." Michelle sniffed. "I should be up there with my parents, not drinking my life away. I just want to die."

"Come on, don't say that. Look, I have a friend who'll definitely make you feel better." Tom let off a small smile as he pushed through the bar doors.

The barkeeper looked up and saw Tom bringing in Michelle. Shrugging to himself he went back to cleaning glasses.

Tom carefully placed Michelle by one of the tables lining the walls and she fell to a slump, her head resting in her arms.

"What's your name?" Tom asked, sitting opposite Michelle.

"M-Michelle... Johnson."

"Nice to meet you."

"Why did you help me? I was happy enough to wallow in my misery." Michelle looked up from her arms and stared into Tom's eyes with her own wet ones.

"I resorted to wallowing in my own misery myself. Didn't do me any good. You feel like you haven't got a purpose, right? The people you love are dead. Friends abandoned you because emotions got in the way."

"Sounds like you got hands-on experience."

"I do, that's why." Tom replied with a sad smile. "Losing the person you were engaged to. Later learning that she saved you and sacrificed herself. It's a hard thing. A very hard thing. Yet... after finding out that she saved me, I felt like I did have reason. She wanted me to live. What about you Michelle? What happened to you?"

Michelle bit her lip, but shrugged inwardly. The man seemed trustworthy. "They were killed in a mass shooting during a failed bank robbery. So many people were shot down like animals... my mum and dad... it was all mum could do to push me aw..." Michelle trailed off, her eyes looking past Tom in realization.

"She pushed you away from harm, didn't she?" Tom said lowly. "You see, this is what I'm talking about. Your mother wanted you to survive. How would she feel knowing you're drinking yourself to death?"

"Betrayed." Michelle instantly muttered.

"Yeah. Betrayed. That's how Rose would feel about me right now. I'm doing my best to correct it though." Tom took a breath, before lightly grabbing Michelle's hand. "Do you recognise the name Gervais Jean?"

"That boy who saw us all di?e. The boy who saved me." Michelle said. "Got me out of the car. I would've died."

"What if I told you that the person I loved had a similar premonition... vision as Gervais did. She saw me die as well as others... all of them are dead but me."

"Wh-what are you saying?" Michelle whispered. She was leaning close to Tom now, both of them being quiet. The barkeeper looked intrigued but kept his nose out of it.

In a hushed conversation, Tom explained about Death and the List. How the order worked out and more specifically how Michelle was next.

After he finished, there was silence broken only by the soft sound of the cloth against glass.

"For some reason... that makes complete sense." Michelle let off a dry laugh.

"It does?" Thomas looked confused. "You believe it straight away?"

"Better to be safe than sorry my mum always said." Michelle said with a soft smile. "I've been such a bitch lately."

"By the way, my friend, called William, will be here in 15 minutes or so. He's currently dealing with Gervais. Explaining in detail what I explained to you." Tom reported as Michelle reached into her pocket and pulled out her phone.

"What are you doing?" Tom questioned, raising an eyebrow.

"I'm deleting my mum and dad's number. I-I always kept their numbers on my phone... likely because I was never going to forgive myself for their deaths. You've made me see reason. I shouldn't hang onto their deaths like that. I'll mourn, I'll be sad, but I won't dwell on it anymore. I won't drink anymore either." Michelle smiled and looked up at Tom. "Thanks... thanks a lot." Michelle put her hands on the table and pushed upwards. "I really need sleep. I'm gonna get a hell of a –"

Michelle was cut off as the table suddenly collapsed under her. She fell forwards but Tom quickly caught her.

"You okay?" Tom asked with concern.

"F-Fine. Just drunk is all... still" Michelle turned to the barkeeper. "Uh... sorry about the table!"

The barkeeper just shook his head with a look of annoyance before a sudden clunk was heard, followed by a whirring sound. All three people in the bar looked up to see the ceiling fan had turned on.

"What the...?" The barkeeper said, walking over to the controls and pressing the button to no avail. "Damn malfunction." The barkeeper glanced to Michelle and Tom, before going into the back room in an attempt to fix it from its source.

Tom looked up at the fan, before looking to Michelle. "Oh, before I forget, do you recognise any of these names?" Tom handed the list Gervais wrote to Michelle.

Michelle scanned it. "No. Although the mass funeral is tomorrow. I'm sure they'll be there."

"Oh? Really, that's great." Tom smiled as Michelle took a step forward and promptly tripped hard on the bottle cap that was by the door. Tom's attention was draw to catching Michelle and both missed the bottle cap shooting upwards and disappearing into the fan, making a faint rattling noise.

Once again Tom had managed to grab Michelle, and she thankfully patted his shoulder.

"Thanks. It goes without saying I am fuckin' pissed." Michelle reached to the bar and grabbed the bottle she'd been drinking from before. "This is my last drink! I hereby raise this bottle to my new life!" Michelle raised the bottle straight as a small _ping_ was heard. For a moment Michelle could have swore that a tall thin man with some sort of skull-capped cane was standing in the corner before the bottle cap shot out of the fan fast and smashed straight into the bottle. The bottle practically exploded in Michelle's hand, sending glass flying into the majority of her face and neck. One long piece punctured her eyeball. Letting out a scream Michelle instinctively clamped her hand on the glass in her eye.

She didn't realise how long it was though and actually forced the glass further into her head. Michelle suddenly started convulsing as the glass hit her brain. Stumbling towards a shocked Tom she grabbed his collar, the blood running down her eyes looking like tears before she slumped downwards at Tom's feet, letting off a last twitch.

Tom watched for a full two seconds, before realization hit him. He quickly kneeled down and tested for a pulse. There was none. Michelle was dead, the look of surprise etched deep into her face.


	12. Phone Call

**(Thanks to A Mosaic Masterpiece, Lance-Dusk, zackt2010, and jamesss for the reviews! I'd figure I'd give you some information for one of my plans for the story that didn't make the cut. Initially, before each person's death they saw a man in a black suit who looked like Morgan Freeman (At least how I'd imagine the man) with a skull-capped cane. He would show people their nightmares and give cryptic messages. After further consideration, I decided to scrap that idea since it was veering too much into the style of my other FD series, which I don't want. Also, don't you hate it when horror movies don't show backstory? The people aren't just lambs to the slaughter. That's why I'm giving characters backstory and expanding on them. Finally, I got a question to y'all. Should William (Bludworth) make it to the next story, or not. His life is literally in your hands. That's all folks.) **

Tom was silent and pale, leaning in the front of the Rolls Royce. It had been thirty minutes since Michelle's death and they were still outside the bar. William had gone to talk to the police while Gervais was still sitting in the back.

"Fuck..." Gervais said suddenly. "This is actually real isn't it? This is fuckin' happening. First that scarred girl, now this one..." Gervais shook his head. "William was actually right..."

"What was he talking to you about anyway?" Tom asked in an attempt to get Michelle off his mind.

"He... gave me a lot of history, I'd guess." Gervais said. "About the other accidents. How the other people like me used all their efforts in saving people." Gervais leant back in his chair. "That's exactly what I'm opposed to. Each of them died only because they tried saving others and not themselves. Fuckin' fools if you ask me."

"What?" Tom turned in his seat to face Gervais. "Are you kidding me?"

"No..."

"You are a selfish motherfucker, you know that Gervais? My future wife died saving me, your insulting her and all the other visionaries. What's wrong with trying to save a life? What's wrong with trying to avoid death?"

"Nothing's wrong with it. Just that it's a whole lot of effort for the same result. That girl was gonna die no matter what you did. It was a matter of when. "

Tom held back a retort and just shook his head, facing the front of the car again.

The car door opened, and William leaned in.

"Thomas, I am working tonight. Take Gervais back to his house, and then get some rest yourself. You will need to gather all the survivors from the funeral. I don't know how, but you need to. Then I can fully explain how we can avoid Death."

"What are you doing tomorrow?"

"I'm working double shifts in the morgue. Good luck." William walked away towards one of the police vehicles. Tom sighed and switched seats to the front. Gervais took his place in the passenger seat.

"He already knows how we can avoid death?" Gervais questioned as Tom drove. "He never told me that."

"Well, it's something which really needs to be revealed with the whole group. I'll just say that it holds one hell of a decision."

"Fun." Gervais retorted sarcastically before the sudden ringing of a phone was heard. Gervais dug into his pocket for the phone.

"Hey there." Gervais said as he answered the phone.

_"Gervais? It's Scott. Scott North." _

Tom recognised the name of the survivor from the tinny voice on the phone and signalled for Gervais to put the phone on loudspeaker. Gervais complied.

"Scott... why the hell are you calling me?"

"Look, I don't like you and I know you don't like me. I'm not calling because of that. I think... I think that the people you saved, we're all going to die."

Silence followed Scott's statement and Tom and Gervais realized that Scott had found out.

"How do you guess that?" Gervais questioned.

"I mean, after the accident actually - and I realized you weren't full of bullshit - I decided to do research of visions for the hell of it. Flight 180, McKinley Speedway, all of them... it is just like it. I've already seen Sam and Michelle on the news, further cementing that fact. We are going to die... look, I know we don't get along, but we really need to tell the other survivors. I've also been researching possible ways to stop it. I've come across fanatic blogs about new life and the last person killing themselves. You're coming to the funeral, aren't you?"

"Yeah, I have to according to the polce."

"Meet me there. We should be able to gather all the survivors and then figure this thing out."

"Sure thing." Gervais was about to hang up by saw Tom mouth 'tell him he's next'. "Hey, Scott. I've already found out about a list, the order in which people died. While I'm not gonna cry if you die, your next. Watch out."

"I won't cry when you die either. Thanks and I'll see you tomorrow."

Gervais hung up and slipped it back into his pocket.

"You need to fix your attitude." Tom said. "It's going to hold you back in life."

"Which isn't very long, apparently, so I don't give a fuck." Gervais retorted, before leaning back in his chair. "To be honest, this thing is useless. We try to save them, they die. If the next person dies I'm just giving up. I am really not bothered about strangers."

"Dalton isn't a stranger. You two seem to get on well."

"School friends aren't real friends, Tom." Gervais laughed. "Merely a means to get through school without being targeted by people like me. Get people on your side, you're not gonna get teased, simple as that. As for Dalton, while he's cool and all, I am really not bothered about what happens."

"Do you really not feel anything about the accident? About your fellow students, about the teachers?"

Gervais sat up and smirked. "Really? Really? Look, I don't know if you noticed but I'm an asshole-"

"True." Tom muttered."

"Not only that, but I cause trouble, I bully, and I don't give a crap about it. Most students hate me, they resent me, more than that, they _fear _me. I have the strength to back up my words. I've had more detentions that the amount of hairs on my head, I've even been suspended three times – all of which for assaulting teachers. Why in the good name of hell what I care for those who I hate? To me, they are all victims of an uninteresting accident and who were too stupid to realize that I had seen it. Since they didn't believe, it's their own damn fault they are now underground. The only person I care about is me. If someone is about to die, will I try to save them? Fuck no, otherwise I may die as well." Gervais saw the expression on Tom's face. "Come on old man, tell me what you think."

"What I think? What I think would be too graphic that Rose would turn in her grave." Tom said. "I won't say my opinions, but all I will say is that I hope you'll understand the others situations when you find yourself in a life and death situation."

"I do understand the situation old man. People survived, now they are going to die. And I HAVE been in a life and death situation, having survived that explosion and all. It's not that I don't understand, it's that I really don't care."

Tom shook his head in disgust. "You are a young, naive, arrogant prick."

"Damn right."

**XXX**

In his house, Scott shut off the phone and leaned back in his computer chair. On his computer were a number of tabs and windows, all showing various articles on incidents such as the ones that had happened already..

Looking on a recently opened tab, it showed a video blog from Japan. Clicking it Scott leaned forward and watched a young Japanese man speak rapidly.

"I-I had the vision, I had it two weeks ago. Since then the people I saved... they are all dead. I should have realized that we were going to die... I... I didn't want to admit it but... I think Death... or something is hunting us. Has hunted us. My best friend, he... he died yesterday. Killed by spikes... I'm last and... I don't know what to do. To those who followed me, I thank you just... I don't want to die..."

Scott frowned at the video when he saw movement behind the young man. Suddenly something looking like a ski swung straight through his eye, spitting blood all over the screen. The young man fell forward and the video cut out. Scott sighed. He had seen many video's like this. It wasn't happening just in America, oh no. China, France, Austria, England. So many countries had these accidents, and so many people died as a result. No one thought anything supernatural was going on though. The fact was – as many vlogs stated – they were scared to elaborate on death hunting them to the authorities.

"Scott! Are you still awake?"

Scott heard his mother's voice, Karen, behind his door.

"Yes."

"Can I come in?"

"Of course."

The door opened and Karen walked on, looking shaken. Scott watched as she sat down on his bed.

"What's wrong mum?"

"I... I should've picked you up..."

"What?"

"At the school, I should have picked you up. I left you to wait for me."

"Don't be silly mum. If that happened then we both would've likely died for being in a car." Scott smiled at Karen. "I'm alive now, mum. I won't be dying anytime soon."

"You say that..." Karen sniffed. "I know what you've been researching. I know Death is hunting you down as ridiculous as it sounds."

Scott sighed and pulled his mother into a hug, positively surprising her.

"I know its hard mum. After dad... I know you won't be able to handle it if I die. While there is a distinct possibility, I am certain than I will live for a good number of years. You'll see me grow up, you'll see me marry and have children. I won't die." Scott repeated.

"Such a nice boy." Karen sniffed, pulling away from her son and smiling. "You remind me of your father. Good night Scott."

"Good night mum. Just remember, that I am not going anywhere."

Karen left the room, leaving Scott on his own with his thoughts.

**(By the way, that Video blog was a homage to an awesome horror movie featuring a classic villain. If anyone can catch what it is, then say in the review. You get an imaginary cookie. Thanks and 'till next time!) **


	13. The Funeral

**(Thanks to A Mosaic Masterpiece, jamesss, zackt2010 for the reviews! As of now, I've written two deaths and got completely planned the next. But whom?**

**Also, while I don't spend major time on my stories in terms of checking it, I've put myself out for being a Beta Tester. If you or anyone you know wants a story checked over by someone who isn't going to insult your intelligence, just hit me up. I'll be reading and re-reading and making sure you got an awesome story! **

**With that said, read on!) **

The scaffolding was high, around four floors. Interconnecting poles rattled as worker's worked hard under the early morning sun. They all wore visibility jackets and yellow hats.

"Geez..." One of the workers groaned, clutching his back. "Back's killing me."

"Don't say that." Another worked replied, nodding over to the direction of the church across the street. People in black clothes were milling around. "There is a funeral or something this morning. For those guys at Greythorn."

"Ooh... sorry." The worked shrugged and took a step forward, rattling the poles again. "Come on, let's continue."

"You're the one who held us up."

**XXX**

Tom pulled to a stop next to other cars, still in William's Rolls Royce. He had no idea where William was, but knew he had to be at the funeral. Tom sighed, switching of the engine and got out of the car. A sudden reflection of a car appeared in the opposite window, though no car was seen. Biting his lip nervously, Tom turned around and started walking towards the group that were starting to sit down in set chairs.

"Hey, Tom! Yo!"

Tom turned to see Gervais jogging up, looking uncomfortable in a black suit.

"I'm surprised you came." Tom replied.

"Eh, Scott wanted to talk to me. I suppose I should help people not die, eh. Besides, the police told me it would be better for everyone if I attended. Also that talk show wanted to talk about the experience of being at a funeral at 12 o'clock."

"Is that all it's about? Being on TV?" Tom asked as he walked forward.

"Money is money, isn't it." Gervais replied, crossing his arms.

Tom shook his head and sat furthest back on the chairs, considering her wasn't invited. Gervais sat next to him, already looking bored. "Gervais, can you point out any survivors?"

"I guess..." Gervais looked around and immediately caught a woman crying into a man's chest. "That guy's my old sports teacher, Mr. Thomas, Kris. The woman looks like the one he was talking to." Gervais looked around more. "That's the freak. I don't know his name but he's a fuckin' weirdo." Gervais pointed to a chair near a tree, where Christopher was nervously fingering his keychain, muttering to himself it seemed. "There's the Janitor. Spikey." Gervais pointed to a man who looked remarkably like William, sitting with his arms crossed near the front. "That's-"

"Dalton." Tom finished as Dalton came walking up to them. "We've already met."

"Fair enough." Gervais shrugged and then grinned at Dalton. "Hey."

"Good morning." Dalton yawned, adjusting his tie and sliding next to Gervais. "What's up?"

"Nothing much. Just pointing out survivors." Gervais shrugged, before pointing to Tom. "This guy wants to know."

"Oh hey, it's the guy with the mortician. I heard about that girl you were looking for... the one with the scar..." Dalton frowned.

"Yeah... we were too late." Tom muttered.

"Too late? For what, it was an accident right?"

"I'll explain after the funeral, along with the other survivors." Tom said.

"Sure thing." Dalton shook his head and glanced at his watch.

"Anyone else here?" Tom asked.

"Yeah." Gervais replied, pointing to two young teens talking together. "That's Jessie, and the other ones a kid I've seen playing on his game boy all the time."

"His names Brandon." Dalton supplied.

"Brandon..." Tom murmured, going into his pocket and pulling out the list, scribbling out 'Bradley or something' and replacing it with Brandon.

"That's those figure skaters." Gervais pointed again near to the front, where Dominique was huddled in Samuel's arms.

"Dominique and Samuel." Dalton supplied again. "Considering I'm guessing you're looking for survivors, Jovianne's coming in now." Dalton pointed to Jovianne, who was looking shaken and walked towards the chairs on her own. Her father and siblings were still at home, being too young to come.

"Gervais?"

Gervais turned to see Scott slip into the chair next to Dalton.

"Woah, you're talking to Gervais Scott?" Dalton raised an eyebrow in surprise. "What, are you fixing his computer or something?"

Scott ignored Dalton and looked at Gervais. "Let's talk after the funeral, okay. Be sure to get the other survivors."

**XXX**

As the priest talked, Zoe was finding it much harder than expected. Facing away from the priest, she placed her head in Kris' neck.

"Hey, ssh, it's all right." Kris murmured.

"Why? Why did... why did she have to go?" Zoe whispered, trying not to disturb the procession. "What did she do?"

"It was an accident, you know that. There wasn't much more we could do."

"My dad should be here..." Zoe sniffed, pulling herself of Kris and looking around. "he's not. He doesn't love mom... he never did the bastard..." Letting off a light cough, Zoe grabbed Kris' hands. "Can... can you come home with me Kris? I-I don't think I'd be able to handle... handle this on my own..."

"Sure I will." Kris smiled at Zoe. "Don't worry about it. It's times like this when everyone needs someone to comfort them. We'll go home together and we'll mourn your mother peacefully."

**XXX**

Everything had been said, tears had been shed and flowers had been placed over the memorial. Now most people were going home, or had gone home.

Other than a few scattered people, the only remaining group happened to be the whole group of survivors. Tom, Scott and Dalton had worked together by telling each of them that Gervais wanted to talk to them. They could hardly refuse their 'saviour'.

Now, they were in a circle. Most were calm, though Zoe still had tears streaked down her cheeks as she hugged Kris and Christopher was frantically running the keychain through his fingers.

"What is it you want to say?" Elliot's deep voice started the conversation after the silence. "Are you here to advertise your appearance on that talk-show?"

"Hey, look, I'm not like that." Gervais protested, putting his arms up.

Dalton coughed which sounded almost like 'Bullshit'.

Gervais snapped him a look, before turning back to the group.

"Right. What I wanted to say is... well... you're going to laugh but... what if I told you that Death exists?"

"I am sure we would believe you." Elliot said. "Look at Africa. Look at the places full of famine and poverty. The young and old alike die. Death exists, that is not such a foolish notion."

"No, not like that as in... what if Death was an entity which deliberately hunted you down.

"Like the Grim Reaper?" Kris raised an eyebrow. "Are you kidding me?"

"No, I'm not." Gervais looked exasperated. "You see, I saved you all and because of that you avoided death. Yet... you were put on a list. You're all going to die."

"Are you fuckin' kidding me!" Zoe exclaimed, wiping her tears. She glared at Gervais who looked taken aback. "You... you have the audacity to say something like that here? Our friends... our family have died and you _dare_ say something like that here?"

"I'm serious!" Gervais snapped. "You will all die in the order you would die in my vision. Just ask Daniel, Sam and Michelle, oh no, wait, they were first and now they are dead. If that's not proof enough I don't know what is. "

"If this is what you called us for, I don't know what you're thinking." Dominique sniffed. "You were always the type with no taste Gervais. Play your joke somewhere else."

"It isn't a joke." Scott now spoke up, drawing everyone's attention. If anyone was to agree with Gervais, Scott was the last person they would think of. "I have done research, and this has happened before. Accidents which kill a collection of people, but a visionary saved some of them. Then these people died 1-by-1. It is the truth."

"Coincidences happen. Accidents happen every day." Samuel put in. "It's not like a terrorist group, is it? Unless..." Samuel leaned forward to Gervais. "You're part of some terrorist organization? Wouldn't put it past you. Al-Qaida or some shit?"

"Fuck off!" Gervais snapped, fighting the urge to punch Samuel.

"It's not a coincidence." This was Tom. Once again heads turned to one person. "Or terrorism."

"Who are you anyway? You weren't at the accident, were you?" Samuel questioned.

"My name is Thomas White, and no, I wasn't part of that accident. I was part of one a year ago though. My fiancée had a vision, and she saved me and others. It was in England-"

"The train crash..." Jessie whispered. "My brother was in that accident... why... why are you alive?"

"I'm sorry about your brother, but-"

"Yeah, how come you're alive then? What, are the others all living comfortab-" Dalton started.

"I was about to say that they are all dead. I am the only survivor. I was saved by my fiancé and that is that" Tom growled, causing Dalton's words to hang in the air. "Look, you don't have to believe me. Certainly not. Here's my address." Tom recited his address to the group. "If you believe, or if you don't want to die come to my apartment and I'll tell you how we can beat it. For those of you who don't, then I'll just place flowers on your grave."

With that, Tom turned and headed towards the Rolls Royce.

"I suppose that was the best way." Scott said from beside Tom. "You can expect to see me there." With that, Scott waved goodbye and stepped into the road.

The sudden sound of honking was heard and Scott turned his head to see a car speeding towards him at high speeds. He was stuck in shock, unable to move. The car went straight for him and-

Something tugged at the back of his collar and Scott was pulled back, landing on a heap on his back, breathing hard. Tom stared down at him, more in anger than anything. He certainly didn't know what it meant, but the likely-hood was that he was just placed back on the list.

The car swerved moments after Scott was pulled back in a delayed reaction, heading towards both Kris and Zoe.

Tom's anger was lost as he realized who was after Scott. _Mr. Thomas. That was Mr. Thomas. _

"Watch out!" Tom yelled, causing Kris to turn and see his eyes widen. Acting on surprising instinct, Zoe pulled Kris back and the car missed by a breadth. Kris fell on his fear, his jaw open in fear. The car smashed into the scaffolding that was attached to a building, causing it to shake but surprisingly didn't fall. The car came to a stop and all was still.

"Holy..." Kris managed to get to his feet and looked to Zoe. "You saved my life... Ha... Thanks..."

A sudden rattling was heard and Kris looked back at the scaffolding to see one of the poles sliding down and falling through the air.

Kris gasped and hopped to the side, avoiding the pipe. However, there was a sickening crack and red splashed over Kris' face. Kris blinked and focused on the pole, which was sticking straight out the middle of Zoe's chest.

Surprise was plastered across Zoe's face as she looked down at the large blood-streaked steel pole through her chest. She let off a small smile, as if glad she would meet her mother sooner than later, before collapsing to the ground. Kris let out a cry of horror and leapt forward, cradling Zoe in his arms.

"No! Shit, Zoe, no!" Kris felt his eyes grow hot as he clutched Zoe close to him.

"Kris... thanks... at least..." A small amount of blood dripped from Zoe's mouth. "At least... someone is alive... who... loves me..." Zoe went limp, her eyes closing.

Despite the fact they had only recently met, Kris felt he had a connection with Zoe, felt... love as she put it, but now that was... gone? Just like that?

Tom watched with growing disappointing. His legs felt weak and he backed against the fence of the graveyard. "Another one..." Tom murmured, shaking his head.

Scott looked slightly pale, but nevertheless he moved forwards towards Kris and grabbed the teacher's shoulders.

"Sir... Kris? You should let go." Scott put a comforting hand on Kris' shoulder.

The other survivors were also looking from various spots, looking disconcerted. Christopher's hand were a blur as he spun the keychain, his face shadowed. Jovianne was holding her mouth, feeling sick but unable to look away from the gruesome scene.

Elliot made a triangle shape on his chest, before kissing some kind of talisman which was hanging around his neck.

"Kris, please..." Scott murmured into the sobbing Kris' ear. "Let go."

"Why? Why the fuck should I!" Kris exclaimed, turned around and pushing Scott physically, surprising the students. Kris was the soft-hearted guy who only got physical in sports. He had never, ever been violent like that. "I loved her man, I goddamn loved her!" Kris bit his lip, and managed to make contact with Gervais. "This... this is your fault!"

"Excuse me?" Gervais looked insulted as Kris stalked over to him.

"You... you are too concentrated on your own goddamn ego on these talk shows to actually care! If you just let us go Zoe wouldn't be... be..." Kris clutched his jaw, breathing hard.

"Hey! Look on the reality side of things _sir." _Gervais said. "This proves that this whole thing is real. There is a list and-" Gervais was cut off as he was socked straight in the face by an expert swing from Kris' fist. Gervais crashed to the ground as Kris stood over him.

"Don't you dare say that!" Kris growled. "I'll beat you black and blue you no good selfish arrogant-"

"Kris!"

Elliot's booming voice drowned out Kris' voice as the janitor walked over to the coach. Elliot grabbed Kris' shoulders and looked him in the eye. "Act professional. You cannot possibly blame Gervais. While it hurts I am sure, what he said is correct. Do not act this way."

Kris blinked away tears before walking back to Zoe. "I don't care. I don't fuckin' care. This is madness... pure madness... Using Zoe as a means to your point..."

Sirens were finally heard as Gervais picked himself up of the floor, his nose bleeding. "Fuck..." Gervais winced as he touched his nose, before turning away and walking.

"Gervais?" Tom called.

"What the hell do you want old man?" Gervais swirled around and planted a finger on Tom's chest. "I tried to tell them, look what I got for it. I'll be telling people the truth in a couple of hours. This whole death business, how people don't respect me for what I did!"

"Don't be stupid. Do you realise the outcry you'll start if you start spouting to everyone that Death is an entity."

"Yeah. I do thanks." Gervais smirked. "Maybe people will start to respect me. I saved their lives and got nothing for it! I didn't have to. I could've let 'em all burn and save myself!" Gervais turned and started walking, before turning around again to Tom. "By the way, tell William I'm through. I don't want a damn part in saving people's lives. As far as I'm considered, they all just fuckin' die!"


	14. We Don't

**Before I do anything, I'd like to say something important. In the following chapter's I have a hurricane coming in, and since the story is based in New York, the hurricane will hit New York. This was merely coincendental. By no means am I trying to copy or imitate Hurricane Irene. I hope I don't offend anyone by the coming hurricane so that's why I warned you beforehand. My heart goes out to those who've lost their life in the Hurricane. **

**Thanks to angie2282, A Mosaic MasterPiece, fsty, zackt2010 and jamesss and patts9009. Read on. **

_Tom sat in his apartment, feeling sick. William hadn't come back at all during the day, and the sun was now gone. Even more surprisingly, no-one had come. Not even Gervais or Scott. Tom couldn't understand. Scott sounded so sure, but... he never came._

_ It was then Tom saw the woman leaning in the corner, smiling. Those clothes, that face..._

_ "Rose...?" Tom questioned hesitantly, feeling an urge to start hugging and kissing his fiancé, not even questioning that she was there. _

_ Rose let out a laugh. "Back on the list again Thomas? I'm disappointed." _

_ "What? Rose... I didn't... I didn't mean to! Forgive me, please!"_

_ "I save your life to make you live and this is how you repay me?"_

_ "No, It was-" _

** "Tom! Tom?" **

**XXX**

Tom sat up fast, his head colliding with something hard. Tom groaned and held his head, peeking under his fingers to see Scott clutching his head in pain.

"Eh? What...?" Tom sat up to find his apartment room crowded. It seemed as if every survivor other than Gervais and Kris were in his room.

"You invite us over but are asleep when we come?" Elliot looked at Tom in disapproval. "How disappointing."

"What did you want to talk to us anyway? About this list... about going to die?" Jovianne asked hesitantly. "We... we all agreed that Zoe just proved the case. Four dead, in order? No coincidence could ever happen like that."

Tom yawned and blinked. It seemed that some were bored to be there, such as Brandon who was playing on his Nintendo DS, headphones stuck in his ears. Christopher leant in the corner, looking nervous.

"So you all believe then?" Tom questioned, look around.

"Well... 'Believe'... is putting it a bit vague." Elliot said. "I for one believe that this is happening for a reason. Still, Deat is merely a force and can be beaten. So I would like to hear your theory."

"Deaths a force?" Dalton laughed, fiddling with his watch. "Are you kidding? Gravity is a force, yet you can't beat that."

"Before we start conversing and no doubt arguing." Scott put in, pointing to Tom's TV. "Those of you who haven't seen it might want to watch this. Gervais... well, he's been a complete idiot."

Scott turned the TV on which revealed an interview set. A woman in a suit sat on one chair, and opposite her was Gervais.

**XXX**

"_You talked about a list? What do you mean by that?" _

_ "What I mean." Gervais said. "Is that the people I saved, they weren't meant to survive. Since I saved them, there is an order. This order is the order they will die in. If you need proof, don't look any further than Daniel, Sam, and Michelle. They died in the order they were supposed to. Death is hunting us." _

_ "You say Death is hunting you? Is that some kind of... slang?" _

_ "No. I mean it physically. The entity that is death is hunting us down. No doubt about it. Supernatural or not, it's happening. It is not a terrorist, or a serial killer, its death, plain and simple." Gervais smiled and leant back in the chair. "You know, this has happened before. Flight 180, Devil's Flight rollercoaster... just look at the facts. I'm surprised that no-one is doing anything. In fact..." _

_ The interviewer leaned in, interest plastered on her face. "Have you got a suggestion?" _

_ "Funnily enough, I do. I feel the only way we can stop Death is to worship him. It's just like a bullied kid standing up to the bullies and demands to be shown respect. With need to respect Death, otherwise he is going to kill us before we can live out our lives! We got to worship him, show him that quite frankly, we're his minions and we'll serve him. I don't want to die at this age, and I am sure most of your viewers – and the people NOT watching – don't want to die at your age." _

_**XXX**_

Scott clicked off the TV. "Everything else is just expanding on that idea. Gervais has quite simply sparked a... I have no idea what you'd call it."

"A cult?" Elliot suggested. "This was live at midday. Two hours later, people were voicing their opinions on the news. They dressed in robes and masks for god sakes! I do not think Gervais has realised just what he has done."

"Jesus..." Tom shook his head. "This is worse that I could have imagined."

"I highly doubt it."

All heads turned towards the door, where William Bludworth stood. He looked quite shaken and he stepped into the room. "Good evening everyone. Mt name is William Bludworth." William turned back to Tom without a second glance to rest. "Tom, I have bad news. My theory wasn't exactly correct."

"What? About the death row thing?" Tom asked.

"Not just about that. About getting life back." William muttered. "I've... discovered that you will only get the life that that person was going to live. For example, if you killed someone on death row..."

"You would only get like a week at best...?" Tom muttered, before slamming his fist on the table. "Crap! What do you suggest we do!"

"Would you mind explaining first?" Jessie spoke up for the first time.

"It's... the initial theory me and William had." Tom explained. "We... we thought that we could avoid Death by giving it another life. We thought it would work, because I accidently killed... killed my wife and I'm still alive."

"Woah, your theory was _killing people?_" Jovianne looked disgusted.

"Was... yes. Now, with what William said..."

"We got no chance." William bluntly said, looking around the group. "The only way to survive is to resort to murder. To kill a healthy man or woman who was guaranteed to live long."

"Are you kidding?" Dominique let out a laugh. "We can't kill anyone."

"Exactly my point." William said. "It's a lost cause. We try and we try but no matter what we do we cannot avoid Death."

"What about me and Kris?" Scott asked. "I was going to die when the car was about to hit me."

"You just change the order if that happens." William said. "You and Kris must've been put at the end of the list."

"Talking of which..." Tom sighed. "I've been put back on the list. I saved Scott."

"No matter." William said, surprising Tom.

"What?"

"You will die tomorrow."

Tom's eyes widened to the point it looked like they were going to burst out of his head. "WHAT?"

"While in the morgue I looked over Rose Everdeen's reports. It was found that she had cancer, appearing only two days before her death. That cancer would have grown terminal over the years, and I predict she would have died sometime this week. Today's Saturday... so..."

Tom looked completely lost. "I... It was all for nothing? I'm just going to die? Just like that?"

"What do we do?" Jovianne asked, shivering. "How can we avoid death?"

William blinked slowly. "Quite simple Miss Tablette. We don't."


	15. It Hurts!

**(Thanks to A Mosaic Masterpiece, jamesss, zackt2010, Lance-Dusk, fsty, and angie2282 for the reviews! Awesome, I don't usually get this m any reviews constantly for my FD Fics, so thank you! I appreciate it a lot! All right, time for the chapter which confirms the fact I like torturing my characters based on their fears. I am such an asshole lol. Mosaic knows who I mean! Read on! **

Christopher sucked the orange juice with a straw as he sat at the dinner table in early morning. Scrambled eggs were sat in a dish in front of him as his mother, Julianne, bustled around the kitchen. Julianne was a clean freak, always positioning things in their rightful places and picking at dust.

Christopher blinked, as he watched a magnet on their fridge slowly slide down and fall off. Julianne tutted and picked the magnet up, throwing it in the bin.

"I'm telling you, it's going to take a fortune to get you to a new school for next year." Julianne said as she rustled through the cupboards. "I mean, they aren't going to fix up Greythorn this year, I doubt. In fact, it's probably going to close. Students and teachers alike dead..."

"Does it hurt?" Christopher asked, taking the straw from his mouth and spinning it in the juice, making a spiral.

Juliette turned, a smile playing on her lips. "No, honey, it doesn't hurt. Death is peaceful."

Christopher smiled at the answer and started at his eggs.

"Christopher..." Juliette said with a frown.

"Yes?" Christopher questioned through a mouthful of eggs.

"I've... invited your father over."

Christopher's eyes widened in surprise. His father, Ian, divorced his mother before Christopher was born. Only two occasions had Ian visited, both times making Christopher feel really happy. Still, it was a big deal. Juliette loathed Ian.

"I know you're happy with him around." Juliette felt like she was holding something in, before she suddenly sat down opposite Christopher. "We've decided to get together again!"

"What... what?" Christopher questioned, blinking. Did he just hear that right? "I thought you two hate-ed each other? Like Honey and Marmite, like cheese and soup?"

"Not anymore honey. We... we got together two months ago and realized that we were in love again. So, he's coming back here to live with us."

Christopher smiled, a smile which stretched over his face, before he let out a giggle. "That's really cool. I like Ian."

"I know you do, honey." Juliette glanced at her watch and suddenly cursed, standing up. "Look, honey, I got to go to work. A technician will be fixing the satellite soon so don't be rude. He's coming early since we don't know how long it will take. Oh, and you can cook your own dinner. Bye honey."

"Bye!" Christopher waved as Juliette left the room.

**XXX**

Louis, the technician whom Juliette was talking about was already in his van humming to some music on his radio. Shifting his weight, Louis grunted. Stroking his moustache, he peered out the window to see traffic still wasn't moving.

"Move!" Louis exclaimed, slamming his hand on the horn. Due to the fact the van was old, it sent shivers through the metal frame, knocking off a screwdriver in the back. The screwdriver fell through the air but got caught on another hook, swinging precariously over an old leaf blower. Louis wasn't only a technician, more of a handy man. He mowed lawns, painted, and did other such stuff.

Finally the traffic started moving and Louis continued on his way.

**XXX**

Christopher was moving magnets around on the fridge idly, waiting for the worker. Once he came and left, Christopher could do his own thing.

As he did, Christopher was thinking deeply. The conversation at the apartment last night sent shivers through his spine. He would die? Christopher shook his head. If he was to die, he knew it wouldn't hurt. No, his mother and father both agreed. So did everyone. Death wouldn't hurt at all.

Still, Christopher didn't want to die. Christopher saw that he had made the word: Dog, before smiling. Dogs were lovely. Funny faces, floppy ears, Christopher loved dogs. In a mental way, of course. Physically, dogs were a no-no.

A knock on the door drew Christopher's attention away and he opened the door, revealing Louis.

"Hey, kid. This the Palacious household?"

Christopher nodded. "Mom said you should just go ahead."

"All right." Christopher watched from the doorway as Louis opened the door of his van and pulled a ladder and a tool kit out. He continued to watch as Louis set up the ladder, and started climbing. Louis stopped halfway and looked down at Christopher. "You seem interested. Do you want to be a technician eh?"

Christopher shrugged. "I like to fiddle with things. Taking apart computers and stuff like that."

"Oh? You'd like doing what I do then. Why don't you watch, I'll work better with an audience." Louis laughed. He was actually quite a social person despite his appearance. He liked to talk and play with kids, although not in a bad way.

With that Christopher watched as Louis went up to the satellite and started looking around it in search of the problem. Taking out a wrench, Louis went to use it before cursing. Glancing down he saw Christopher watching intently still. "Hey kid, do you want to help?"

"Help? Sure..."

"Can you go get the big wrench in the van? I forgot it. It's the big one."

Christopher nodded and walked over to the van, opening it and looking around the numerous tools. Grabbing the wrench, he turned around and promptly froze.

A man was walking a dog. The dog stared at Christopher, the beady eyes threatening and evil. Then it opened its mouth, sharp teeth gleams, and let off a bark. He followed up with more, pulling at the owner's lead.

"Hey, hey, calm down. Calm down." The man looked up to Christopher and shrugged. "Sorry, Max is a lively one. He even ran away a couple of days..." The man stopped and looked to Christopher. "Are you okay?"

Christopher couldn't respond. The snarling teeth. The vicious claws. The evil eyes...

A sudden wind blew across the street with enough force to make the van door swing. It closed with a bang. Inside the screwdriver dropped from the hook and hit the 'ON' switch of the leafblower. With a roar it activated, blowing all across the interior of the van. Since the door wasn't clicked in place, it swung open again, knocking into Christopher's back.

Christopher fell forward in surprise. The dog, being a rather uncooperative and violent dog, thought Christopher was attacking. With a vicious tug it pulled the lead from the man's hand and leaped on Christopher's front. Christopher yelled as the dog started scratching his face. The dog managed to bite the bridge of his nose before the man tugged the dog of Christopher.

Christopher yelled and moaned in pain, blood streaking across his face. One claw mark had gone over his eyes, splitting it like a grape.

"It hurts! It hurts! It hurts!" Christopher screamed as pain filled his body. Unimaginable pain sending jolts throughout his face and head.

"Oh my god, are you okay? Jesus, are you all right?" The man bustled over Christopher but he drew back, still clutching his face.

From the Ladder, Louis looked back to see what the commotion was to see Christopher on the ground with the man over him. Fearing the worst, that the boy was being attacked, Louis quickly climbed down off the ladder and strode over. "Get off him! You hear me, get off!"

"What?" The man looked up to see Louis. "No, it wasn't me, it was my dog I-"

"Get away, I'll deal with this." Louis snapped at the man. The man took a moment, before nodded and grabbing the dog, leading him away.

Louis quickly dialled the ambulance and put the phone to his ear before going over to Christopher. "Kid, are you okay?"

"It hurts! It hurts!" Christopher wailed.

A sudden beeping alerted Louis to the fact that the phone was out of battery. "Are you fucking kidding me! Shit!" Louis turned to Christopher and grabbed his shoulders, pushing him to a sitting position in the back of the van. "Sit here, I'll phone the ambulance from your house." Louis patted Christopher on the back before jogging to the house.

Christopher sat further backwards to get more comfortable, sniffing as he held his face, and promptly screamed in pain again. The screwdriver had dug into his back, splitting the skin. Christopher lurched forward off the van, smashing face first on the ground. He felt his chin crack and Christopher got this his knees with a cry, crawling over to the road.

"It hurts!" Christopher screamed as loud as he could, blood dripping from his face. '_mother said it didn't hurt, she lied! She lied to me! I don't want to –'_

Christopher was cut off as a car suddenly smashed straight into his head with enough force to break his skull and his neck. Christopher was flung to the side as the car screeched to a stop. A woman shot out, earplugs in, and rushed over to him. Her face was drawn in shock.

"Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god!"

Christopher, miraculously still alive but in intense pain opened his mouth as the woman looked over and saw Louis coming out. In panic, the woman rushed to Louis leaving Christopher. What she didn't realise was that blood was pouring into Christopher's mouth.

Unable to swallow, tears ran down Christopher's remaining eye as he tried to breath. He only succeeded in allowing the blood to enter his lungs. With a last gurgle, Christopher fell limp. His eye showed the fear, the pain, the betrayal as his death had hurt. Hurt a lot. A single tear dropped against the asphalt as the life faded from Christopher.

**(I'm so evil... XD Special Notice: I'll also be submitting a chapter tomorrow. Also, come Monday, there is a high possibility that the scheduling will start going off-kilter. Obviously I'll still update, it's just that I'm starting my A-Levels (Fun). **

**Thanks and 'till next time! **


	16. Plea for Answers

(**Thanks to zackt2010, A Mosaic Masterpiece and fsty for the reviews! As promised, here's the next chapters. This is one off only, the updating will go back to every two days. It's merely since I'm changing my updating schedule. Also, I'll be involving more characters, so the likes of Brandon and Jovianne will be making more appearances later. Anywho, read on!) **

"Fucking fuck, bastard, son of an arrogant conceited prick!"

"Calm down." Scott soothed, pressing a hand on Tom's shoulder. Tom's face was red with fury. Even if you were new to the concept of anger, you would have immediately guessed something was wrong. The two were exploring more information, finding some kind of help since William had all but given up.

"Calm down? Calm fuckin' down? Are you kidding me?" Tom faced Scott with his hair askew. "This is Gervais' fault, that stupid ass. He would've got a vision, he must've, but he didn't tell us and now Christopher is dead. Another goddamn person is dead! When I get a hold of him..."

"Please, Tom, be silent." Scott said. "Gervais is a prick, we've established that. Cursing him isn't going to do the rest of us any good. Who's next again?"

Tom took a deep breath. "Next on the list is Elliot. Although, apparently I'm going to die today so it may be me."

"You're taking awfully well since your reaction yesterday."

"I guess I knew it wouldn't be over." Tom sighed. "It's just too good of a situation for me to survive a year. At least I get to see Rose again."

"Assuming there is something after death."

"It's better to believe than not to believe. Otherwise you'll keep dwelling on how you don't want to die and then you will die early as a stupid consequence. Even if it's hell, if I see Rose again, it's all worth it."

"Hm." Scott stroked his chin. "Look here. It says new life can stop it."

"New life? They already tried that one." Tom shrugged. "According to William anyway."

"Damn..." Scott cursed, "What do we do?"

"Follow William and give up." Tom frowned, leaning back.

"No way. We are not giving up. We will do our damn best to save people's lives. You saved mine, Zoe saved Kris. If we can keep saving people then it's all good despite it being a complete cycle.

The door opened behind them, drawing the man and teenager to see Elliot walking in, dressed in a black suit complete with a hat.

"Elliot, what are you doing here?" Tom asked.

"I am no fool. Christopher is dead. I am next, am I not?"

"Yes... Yes you are."

"Did you get any solution? Find any answers?" Elliot sat down and took of his hat, his wary eyes looking at Scott.

"Not yet, no."

"I see." Elliot sighed. "This is a curse like no other. It is a curse in the hands of the devil."

"Excuse me?"

"This... list, as you say. It is a curse said by the mouth of the devil himself." Elliot said. "He watches and he laughs at us, human kind. He sees us struggle and he laughs. Perhaps if I learn this curse, I can reverse it."

"Are... do you... actually believe that?" Tom asked hesitantly.

"What is not to believe, Thomas?" Elliot asked, a brief flash of anger in his eyes. "I have the power to perform the curses. My Great-Great-Grandparents were powerful people, Thomas. They could kill, change water to wine-"

"Like a modern day Jesus? I hope you're kidding." Tom uttered.

Elliot stood up fast, looking in fury at Tom. "It will not do to look down on my people, Thomas! They were burned at the stake because people feared there power! How is it that they burned my relatives, but they do not try to defeat the Devil himself? They fear the devil, yet it is irrational. The Devil is merely a sheep in wolf's clothes. A simple curse will put him down."

Tom couldn't help but laugh.

"Laugh all you want! I did not realize you were that kind of man, Thomas. I will find this curse, I will utter it, and I will defeat the force known as death, the devil. Do not look down on my power."

"Power? I'm sorry, but at the risk at sounding rude... curses aren't real..."

"Yet 'Death' is?" Elliot shook his head. "I may be in my forties, but I know my priorities. You have given up, but I shall not! If I die, then I will join my mother in heaven. I came in hope of acceptance. You laughed at me and embarrassed me. Ridiculed my beliefs, and quite frankly insulted me. Goodbye." Elliot turned heel but stopped at Tom's protest.

"Elliot, don't! I'm sorry, but... you have to admit it sounded ridiculous." Tom took a breath. "If you truly believe that this... curse... will work, by all means, try it. I don't want you to become like Kris and Gervais, to become estranged from us. We have to stick together."

"Put it this way." Elliot said. "If I am alive tomorrow, the curse shall have worked. Good day." Elliot ducked out of the room, leaving Tom and Scott alone.

Ten minutes later, Scott tapped Tom's shoulder. "Hey, look at this. Wasn't Everdeen the last name of your fiancé."

"What?" Tom turned his attention back to the monitor, showing the title: _Husband pleads for ex-wife's murderer to hand themselves in_. "Husband... no way..." Tom's eyes widened as he read the short article:

**XXX**

_Peter Everdeen, 27, has been frantically searching for his ex-wives killer for a year. His ex-wife, Rose Everdeen, was one of the 'visionaries' who foresaw a train accident in Poole, England. Peter, having got evidence that the killer is in New York, has sent out a plea to the killer. "Please hand yourself in." Everdeen says. "You killed not only a wife, but a mother. She was not meant to die that day, I know it, yet she did. You have traumatised her child and have made me very angry. Despite our divorce, I always loved her. I have evidence. I will find you." _

_ Mr. Everdeen also had this to say about the only remaining survivor. "Tom White, you are suspicious, it's true. I want to talk to you. If you see this, please phone this number as soon as possible and we can arrange a meeting. If anyone else knows any information, also phone this number." _

_**XXX**_

"No way..." Tom whispered. "When I read Rose's diary, right at the beginning, before the train accident, she said how her husband had divorced her and took away her son. I can't believe this..."

"What are you going to do?" Scott asked.

"I... I guess I'll have to phone him. I'll have to explain that... that Rose died by accident. I'm going to go outside to make the call, signal in here is crap."

Scott grabbed Tom's wrist. "Be careful. This man might have already latched onto the idea you're a killer. He might act first, ask questions later. Since... since you're meant to die today... just be extra careful, okay?"

"Sure thing." Tom went to walk out, before turning back. "Look, I'm likely not going to come back. I'll phone Peter and I'll try and go over straight away. If... If I do die. Murdered or by accident, I know you can find a solution. For a 17-year old, you are pretty damn smart. If possible, see if you can persuade Bludworth to come to his senses. He is a good ally to have."

"Okay." Scott smiled. "Keep safe, all right. I'd rather not have to deal with all of these people. A religious guy, a bastard, a horror lover, and more? None of them are sensible enough really. Dalton is a corrupted asshole, and Dominique's too far up her daddy's ass to care – same with Samuel. Jessie and Jovianne are the only ones with any real sense."

"Have fun." Tom snorted, before waving and exiting the room, leaving Scott on his own.


	17. Think of Her

**(All right, thanks to zackt2010, A Mosaic Masterpiece, jamesss, and patts9009 for the review! As you'll see, Rose and Peter's relationship was... unique. Just because Rose was the protoganist in the last story doesn't mean she's the good guy in the marriage. Also I'll be getting into the main 'prevent death plot' come next chapter. I'm preparing for hate for this chapter lol XD Well, read on!)**

The phone call was quick and to the point. Peter had said where to find him, and hung up. After brief consideration, Tom decided to meet Peter. After all, he had to tell Peter the truth. That Rose wasn't murdered, that it was an accident. If it came to revealing about Death's list... well, so be it.

Now, Tom stood outside a metal fence, barbwire lining the top. Beyond it was a wasteland and old construction site. Rusted metal girders stood up from the ground, pits were dug into the mud. One wall was erected, cracked and looking fit to fall. Beyond the site Tom could see a figure sitting on an upended concrete block.

"Could this get any worse." Tom muttered to himself, before feeling something cold on his nose. Looking up, the clouds let loose all at once. Rain cascaded down, soaking Tom to the skin before long. Laughing sardonically, Tom opened the fence and walked through. He noticed a pile of faded yellow hardhats next to a wooden cabin.

A sudden flash lit up the sky, causing Tom to look upwards. Soon after, a rumble filled the air; Laughter at the misfortune of others. Tom took a deep breath as he walked towards what could only be Peter.

In a way it felt like a conclusion to his own little story. He knew Rose had a husband and son, though he never expected she'd keep the name 'Everdeen'. Now the husband was looking for revenge, and was looking for answers. Despite himself, Tom knew that Peter knew. Knew he was alive when Rose died. He wanted to try and make Tom less scared. Whether Peter was going to do something drastic... well, Tom was meant to die today.

"Thomas White?" Peter looked up, black hair plastered over his face. He wore a black shirt, black trousers and boots. Stubble gathered around his drawn face. Underneath, Tom could see that this man was once attractive, though a year of hardship had gathered in his face.

"Yes." Tom replied, walking over to Peter. "Peter Everdeen?"

Peter nodded, standing up and looking over at Tom. Standing tall, Peter's pose showed no slack. Straight-backed, legs firmly apart.

"You knew my wife."

"Ex-wife." Tom replied automatically, but cursed inside his head. Way to start off a potentially deadly confrontation.

"Of course." Peter sighed, looking down as rain caused his hair to hang to the ground. After a few minutes, Peter looked back up to Tom. "It was a mistake. One... one simple mistake! I didn't mean to. I didn't want divorce!"

Tom remained silent.

"If anyone was in the wrong, it was Rose! She never called for SIX years! Not even to talk to Chris... not even to talk to her own son! Nevertheless I loved her! I... I goddamn loved her!" Peter took a gulping breath, holding his hand out so the rain splashed off. "Like the rain... erratic. Random. Constant. Her hate for me... she never forgave me. Why? It was one mistake!" Peter repeated, dropping his hand and turning around, staring up at the black clouds as another flash of lightning lit up the sky. "Then I heard she was involved in a train crash. Heard she survived. I phoned her, you know. I did. She refused to answer. Didn't realise I cared. Then, later... I heard she had died. Heard... heard she was killed. Regret filled me. I just wanted to die." Peter whirled around, his hair whipping through the air. "I almost did! I placed the barrel in my mouth and... and it was on safety. It was a sign. I knew I had to do something. Then I remembered... I had Chris. I couldn't die, no... no, I couldn't die. Then I heard there was a survivor. Thomas White. I... I investigated. For a year I looked for the reason, and I found it. I found it! You killed her Thomas!" Peter pointed an accusing finger.

"I did not kill Rose, Peter." Tom said, his voice cracking. "You do not know how much it hurt me to see her die. To see her sacrifice herself."

"Sacrifice herself? What are you saying?"

"Rose... Rose saved me, Peter. She saved me and let herself die!" Tom said, gulping.

Peter let off a small laugh, shaking his head and moving his feet. "No... no way." His head snapped back to Tom. "She was happy! Rose was happy! She wouldn't die, no way, she would not die like that! She wouldn't kill herself!"

"She didn't kill herself." Tom said, pain filling his voice. "She sacrificed herself, I told you that."

"What makes you so special then?" Peter wiped his eyes. "What makes you so special? What did she see in _you_ to make her... her..."

"We were going to get married..."

"What?" Peter looked disbelieving. "Are you kidding?"

"I am not kidding, Peter. Rose and I... we loved each other! We grew attached!"

"I don't... I don't believe this..." Peter backed away, before suddenly reaching into his belt and pulling out a pistol, hidden under his shirt. The pistol shook in his hand, but nevertheless Tom froze.

"Peter, don't do thi-"

"I loved her! I fucking loved her!" Peter yelled, his voice echoing over the old wasteland. "She.. she betrayed me? Betrayed Chris? She... married... someone else..."

"We did not marry. We were only engage-"

"It's the same thing! S-Same thing!" Peter exclaimed. Tears were running down his eyes, mixing with the rain. The pistol was shaking even harder. Peter grabbed his wrist, stopping the shaking. "I-I planned to kill you. I planned to kill the bastard who lived instead of my wife! Kill the bastard who survived!"

"Peter, Rose wouldn't want this."

"What do you know, huh? I'm her husband!"

"Her ex-husband!" Tom yelled, anger overtaking him. "She divorced you for a reason and I'm sorry for your misfortune but that is the way it is! Rose made her decision! We found each other, we were in love! I proposed and we were happy! If I had a choice, one fuckin' choice I would've died! I would've let her survive!"

"Why didn't you!" Peter screamed, anguish overtaking his face.

"She saved me! She pushed me away and I couldn't react in time!" Tom screamed back, crying himself. "What do you want me to do? Huh? Go back in time! If I could I would! For the last year, for months and weeks on end I drank myself to house the misery of surviving! I wanted to die in her place. I would give anything for Rose to be alive right now! If the devil existed I'd walk right down into hell and offer my soul! My love for Rose runs deeper than the blood in my veins!"

"So does mine!" Peter replied. "So... So does mine! W-We met on a lake... on a bench... every Sunday both of us would come and sit, strangers. As the Sundays went past we knew that we had something, and we did something about it! You call it your love 'true', ours was set in fate! Rose and I were meant for each other! WE HAD A CHILD!" Peter roared. "I would run through hell, walk to the end of the eternity to have her back! I would redo all my mistakes but I didn't have the chance because YOU killed her!"

"I DIDN'T KILL HER! I told you that!" Tom screamed, before slowly controlling his breath. "Look... put down the gun, let's get inside, and let's talk like civilized men."

"No, no no NO!" Peter shook his head wildly. "This ends! This ends here and now! You killed her! You made her die and you survived! Why? WHY!"

"You are not going to find out answers by shooting me. Rose wouldn't want this."

"Again... a-again... what would you know?"Peter licked his lips.

"Make the choice, Peter. Make the choice which Rose would agree to! Don't become a murderer! Don't leave your son!"

"I... I already have..." Peter said quietly, a change to his attitude. "I gave him to my parents... he's still young enough to forget... young enough to forge a new life with new parents..." Peter looked up to Tom and connected eyes. "I was never planning on going back to him." Peter suddenly lifted the pistol and planted it on Tom's forehead. "This... I wanted to do this for a very... VERY... long time!"

"Please, Peter." Tom closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. "Make the right choice! Think of Rose! Think of her!"

"I-I... I am..." Peter sniffed, before pulling the trigger.

In a flash of crimson, Tom crumpled to the ground, a faint smile on his otherwise lifeless face. Peter took a frantic breath, falling to his knees, tears cascading down his face. The pistol dropped to the floor and Peter let his misery out, drowned out by the incoming storm.

**(Yikes! Tom goes down for the count. Due to the fact I killed him off, I'll reveal some information about the sequel (Although we're FAR from it yet). So far, from what I have planned, there are THREE survivors. This could change, but as of now I got three people set for surving Death. Yet with me you never know when I suddenly decide to off someone... although one person shan't be changing at all. That one WILL get through. With that said, 'till next time!) **


	18. The Connection

**(Thanks to Patts9009, zackt2010, A Mosaic Masterpiece, Jamess and for reviewing each chapter after starting reading, LocalTalent 53 for all the reviews! As it stands, we still got quite a way into the story. I haven't even got into the main plot yet, which funnily enough starts this chapter. I've killed off some more people from my writing in advance, although you'll have to wait to see who those are. Read on!)**

"There must be something! Some link!" Scott murmured to himself. Despite it being midday, it looked like evening due to the increasing storm. Black clouds rolled in the sky, lightning flashed and rain cascaded in sheets. Scott couldn't have cared less though, he was more interested in his research. Using Tom's apartment, he had made it into a giant spreadsheet of information. The walls were filled with printed information from the internet about other incidents. Being fluent in German, French and Italian, Scott had also found articles from those countries. It wasn't just Route 23, Devil's Flight, McKinley Speedway, Flight 180, or the Lions Gate Bridge, oh no.

Ski resorts, nightclubs, trains, helicopters, theme parks. Scott had come across so many different disasters that were seemingly accidents. With enough digging, he found they all had one anchor, one similar thing. That was the visionary. Someone _always_ saw it, but why?

That was the question Scott was trying to solve.

Looking at a cruise ship disaster article (The ship being called the S.S. McKinley), Scott couldn't help but let off a small chuckle. Death had a sense of humour for sure. Things were related, often by McKinley.

As if a light bulb suddenly popped over Scott's head, he spun around and stalked over to another article.

_'Ian McKinley is crushed in a tragic accident'_

"This is it... this is fucking it!" Scott quickly looked over to other articles. S.S. McKinley. McKinley Speedway. Flight 180 was constructed by McKinley Industries. Same with the theme park with Devil's Flight in it.

"McKinley... McKinley!" Scott let off a brilliant laugh, shaking his head in disbelief. "It all comes back to McKinley! Why?" Scott spun around again and went to the computer, tapping in a few phrases. A minute later, Scott shook his head in disbelief once again. Greythorn School was founded by one Charles McKinley.

"McKinley is the root..." Scott smiled as if he had just achieved another A* exam. All the answers were coming together. Now it was a fact of finding just how far back this extended. If McKinley was the source of the visions... if it was the source of these accidents? Scott was going to find it.

A knock on the door drove Scott's thoughts away. "Come in." He called. The door opened, and Brandon walked in. Wearing a Resident Evil T-shirt, his face was pale. "Hey, Brandon."

"H-Hey." Brandon nodded, looking around the room. "What are you doing?"

"Researching. But what are you doing?"

"I..." Brandon shrugged, walking over to the window and looking out. "I have no idea, really. Dad and mum think I'm deranged about this list. They said to stop listening to TV."

"They must be few of many. I'm telling you, Gervais has raised pandemonium." Scott said.

Brandon sighed, and turned to Scott. "I love horror movies. Love them. Saw, Resident Evil, Friday the 13th... well, I thought I did. Being in this situation, being... being one of the victims..." Brandon held a hand to his cheek. "Damn it, it ain't fun!"

"Of course it isn't. This isn't a movie." Scott said.

"Yeah, of course. I know that." Brandon sighed. "We're going to die, aren't we? With Christopher's death, that put the nail in the coffin."

"I am trying my best at finding a solution Brandon." Scott motioned idly to the articles plastered across the room.

"Are you having any luck?"

"Actually, I am." Scott rubbed his eyes. "I've found the connection. McKinley. McKinley is the start of it, I'm sure. I need to find the proof and the reason, but it all revolves back to McKinley."

"McKinley?" Brandon looked surprised. "My dad's friend is a McKinley. Dave McKinley."

"Dave... McKinley..." Scott's jaw dropped slightly. "My bloody god!"

"What is it?" Brandon asked.

"Look. Look here." Scott pointed to another article. "This is about the death of Ian McKinley. His father wrote a comment in the article. The father's name was Dave. Maybe he has some answers, or at least can shine some kind of light on the situation. Do you want to come with me?"

Brandon shrugged. "Yeah, why not. My parent's likely won't care anyway."

"Nice. Let's go and meet Dave."

**XXX**

In his house, Elliot was kneeling by his bed, hands clasped in front of him with his eyes closed. In his hands was the special talisman handed down the generations.

"Mother. What is this curse I need to defeat the devil? What is it I need to use?"

Lightning flashed as Elliot went quiet. A minute later he opened his eyes and stood up. "I see. Thank you mother. I know the curse. I can defeat the devil. I know I can. It is written in fate."

Elliot grabbed his coat and hat, and walked out of the door into the rain, coincidently passing Jessie although both were too concentrated on other things to recognise each other.

Jessie sighed, adjusting his grip on the shopping bags as he walked to the apartment. Even though he lived with his parents, they lived in an apartment because money was tight. Yet it was homely. Only thing was, Jessie was slightly afraid of heights. Too bad they lived right at the top.

Finally getting to the door, Jessie nudged it with his hip and walked into the lobby which always smelt like stale smoke. A receptionist regarded him with a half-assed sneer, as if he couldn't even find the effort to be rude.

Jessie ignored him and went down three steps, and walking to the elevator. Hitting the 'call' button with elbow, Jessie waited and looked around. Dull and brown were really all you could say about the lobby. Triangular pattern on the floor, stained brown wallpaper... Shaking his head in disgust, Jessie heard the 'ding'.

The elevator doors opened revealing it to be empty. Stepping in, Jessie placed the bags on the floor, and pressed for the right floor. The doors closed, and the elevator started rising.

Jessie was conflicted. He wanted to go to Tom and Scott, to talk to them, to help. Yet, he was also feeling slightly angry at Tom for not saving his brother. Ridiculous. Jessie shook his head, putting that idea down. How could Tom possible have done that? Stupid selfish-

The elevator suddenly came to a scratchy stop, metal screeching and causing Jessie to wince. Jessie looked around. It took longer to get to the top, right? After waiting a few seconds, Jessie started to feel fear. The doors weren't opening. Claustrophobia started to overtake, and Jessie quickly grabbed the elevator doors. Thank god they were thin and weak. With a grunt, Jessie managed to open them slightly only to find oily black wall in front of him. The elevator had stopped in the middle of a floor.

Jessie felt his shoulders slump and let the doors close again. He was stuck. In a damn elevator. With death looking to personally kill him. Jessie cursed and punched the elevator wall. As soon as his fist touched the metal, the elevator suddenly dropped, before stopping just as suddenly. Feeling his heart in his mouth, Jessie carefully sat down, and put his back against the wall. Closing his eyes, he tried to imagine that he wasn't in a broken down elevator that felt on the verge of breaking. Parents out of town. A useless receptionist who wouldn't notice he was missing. Just perfect.


	19. Chasing Leads

**(Thanks to Lance-Dusk, jamessss, Patts9009, zackt2010, LocalTalent53, and A Mosaic Masterpiece for your reviews! First off, sorry for updating later, blame a combination of DIY, Maths & English coursework. Just a reminder that my updating schedule MAY VARY due to certain coursework tasks. As much as I hate it, It's coursework before writing. **

**Secondly, BIG THANK YOU TO ALL OF YOU for the 100 Reviews! It's always good to get support, and even better to reach over the 100 review mark. Let's see if we can beat the Last Laugh's review rate, hm?**

**Thirdly, I won't reveal a character's fate ahead of time. You can ask me, but I won't answer ;) Also, the McKinley name gets involved a lot now. Literally. **

**Read on!) **

"Nice house..." Scott murmured sarcastically, staring up at the miserable house. The paint was peeling, the wood was cracking and splinters covered the glass. Weeds stood outside, high and threatening, reaching towards the two teens as if to entangle them. A faint path led to the front door which was covered in scratches and was rusted at the handle and hinges. "Are you sure this is the right place?" Scott adjusted his hood to stop the most of the rain. Yet the wind constantly blew it down again so in the end he just gave up.

"Yeah." Brandon nodded. "Although, last I saw it was much neater. That was a couple of years ago mind you. Dad let me visit. He might not live here still though.

"Only one way to find out." Scott took a breath, before stepping in the path. No sooner had his foot made contact with the path did the door suddenly get thrown open. A figure stood in the doorway, shotgun pointed straight at Scott's chest. "Woah! Woah, wait, don't shoot!" Scott quickly put his hands up, followed shortly by Brandon. Wild thoughts jumped through Scott's mind, although he kept them locked away and tried to remain calm despite the fact a firearm was pointed straight at them.

The man had short black hair and stubble all around in uneven patches, as if he started shaving but gave up halfway through. A beer gut hung out of a stained white vest and he wore only ragged jeans and peeling trainings. All in all, he definitely suited the house he looked in.

"D-Dave? Dave McKinley?" Scott called out.

"Who the hell's asking?" Dave McKinley half-grunted, half-growled. His voice was a rough as his appearance.

"My name is-"

"You come to kill me? Has the devil finally sent his hell spawn?" Dave let out a laugh. "I'm telling ya, I ain't ready to leave this world, oh no sir! So get off my land before I shot you down back to hell."

"No, we are not 'hell spawn'." Scott said calmly. "We just want to talk."

"Talk? Talk 'bout what?"

"About your family."

"My family's dead, well, essentially all dead. Why'd you want to talk about them?" Dave's face scrunched in suspicion.

"It's about the McKinley heritage. I want to know the furthest your family line goes back, for a... school project."

"School project, eh?" Dave let his shotgun down. "Bullshit. Come in anyone."

**XXX**

The faint ticking of a clock was all that filled the room from a surprisingly antique grandfather clock. Old faded pictures hung crookedly on the wall, showing times long past. The floor was ripped in places while the TV had a giant crack from end to end. The ceiling fan whirred and rattled uncomfortably, sending cold jolts down the teen's spines. Brandon and Scott sat awkwardly on a mauled sofa, while Dave was sitting in a high back chair.

"So." Dave finally broke the silence. "Which of my family do you want to talk about? My son?"

"I'm sorry about Ian, but... it's not directly about your son, no." Scott leaned forward. "I want to know how far back your name goes. The name McKinley goes."

"History... eh?" Dave sighed. "My father talks history, not me. Grouchy bastard. All I know is that McKinley have dropped from grace. My father, the McKinley Empire, all of his creations were generally the cause of massive death. He spouts about the curse, but I don't believe him."

"Your father is alive?" Brandon blurted out.

"Hold your tongue or I'll rip it out boy. I may not be in best condition but you better be polite." Dave snapped, before sighing. "Aye, Lewis McKinley is alive and... well, I'd say good but... you'd have to see for yourself."

"Where can we find your father, sir?"

"Retirement home. Only place where people don't give a crap what he says." Dave let off a small laugh, before reaching to his side and pulling up a box. He handed it to Scott silently.

In interest, Scott opened it and immediately gasped. There were multitudes of photo's. All of them a photo of someone dead. A missing head, a vicious hole, a gunshot wound. "What is this?"

"These are all the people who've tried to investigate the McKinley name." Dave let off another bark of a laugh. "My father and I are the only ones alive. Just be careful what you wish for kid, you'll find yourself on Death's list."

"I already am."

"Eh?" Dave looked up and saw Scott was deadly serious. "Ho... ho oh my god! Haha!" Dave clutched his chest. "No wonder. No fuckin' wonder. So, are you the visionary, or what?"

"The visionary?"

"Yeah. The guy that saw the vision."

"No, that was Gervais Jean. How do you-"

"Know about it?" Dave laughed again. "I'm a visionary kid. Saw my father's club explode. Saved people. They died. I'm the survivor. I'm almost guaranteed to be dead by the end of the year."

"You're a visionary?"

"Oh yes." Dave blinked slowly before gesturing to himself. "Fear made me into this. Fear of death. Fear of what lies in the deep dark depths of my heart." Dave stood up and stood over Scott, staring down at him. "Be very, very wary Scott Avery North. Death doesn't like people mixing into his affairs."

It took a moment for Scott to realize what Dave had said. "How do you know my name?"

"I know all the name's on my master's list." Dave suddenly lunged forward, teeth barred and fingers curling at Scott. His hand reached towards Scott's neck. Scott scrambled to the side, falling to his knees off the sofa. He managed to get to his feet as Dave turned around, eyes lit up with excitement.

"Master's list? What are you talking about?"

"I am not going to die Scotty old boy! Gervais was right, oh by god he was right! We worship Death, he is our master! Our god! I have investigated all of you. It's not often someone intelligent enough comes along to investigate the McKinley name."

"You're going along with Gervais' words? His fake promises?" Brandon asked, disbelieving.

"It ain't fake! Haven't you heard? Gervais has the solution. Kill or be killed. Survival of the fittest. Kill someone, you get their life and please Death in the process!"

Scott cursed. How did Gervais find that one out?

"I might as well add a couple days on my life!" Dave lunged towards Scott again but was suddenly cracked on the top of the head by a lamp. Dave crumpled to the ground, unconscious.

"Holy shit..." Brandon gasped, dropping the lamp. "Didn't think that'd actually work. Works in movies but this is reality."

"He was damn crazy." Scott sighed. "Nevertheless, we need to find his father."

"What do we do about him?"

"Leave him."

**XXX**

"Dad, you cannot be serious."

"Of course I'm serious young lady."

"Don't young lady me!" Jovianne protested, holding her arms out and looking to her much taller father. "I'm not a child anymore."

Gordon Tablette sighed, placing a hand on his worn face. "Look, I just don't want to lose you to some cult."

"Excuse me?" Jovianne raised an eyebrow. "Cult? I'm only visiting Scott considering he seemed to know what's going on."

"He's in the thick of it, no doubt." Gordon said. "The ring leader."

"Why are you being so mean about this? Just let me go out."

"I lost your mother, I will not lose you!"

Jovianne let off a sharp laugh, shaking her head. "Dad, now your being selfish. Mum would want me to find out; I'm trying to prevent my _death _which, if you didn't realise, I almost lost to cancer!" Immediately after Jovianne gasped, not believing what she said. However, Gordon took it in stride and took a deep breath.

"So you're going to worship Death?"

"What?" Jovianne stroked her hair, feeling the urge to cry out of frustration. "Are you seriously... no! Scott isn't part of any cult. If you haven't noticed, there is a list, and I'm on it! Surely you can't just let me die like that!"

"Don't swing my words around, Jovianne." Gordon frowned. "I'm-"

"You can't die! You can't!"

At the high voice, Gordon and Jovianne turned to see daughters and sisters respectively. Poppy and Lily, four, were twins. They both inherited Gordon's brown hair, which ran sleek down their bags.

"No, no, I'm not going to die." Jovianne leant down and smiled, ruffling her sister's hair. "Don't be silly."

"Good!" Poppy sniffled. "We don't want you to die."

"Of course not." Jovianne laughed. "I'm not going to leave dad with you four brats."

"Meanie!" Lily pouted as Poppy stuck her tongue out childishly.

Jovianne looked back up to Gordon. "Please dad. Just let me visit Scott, I need to know more about this!"

Gordon let out a sigh. "Only if I can come with you."

Knowing that she wouldn't be able to persuade him any longer, Jovianne nodded. "Fine, thank you dad. What about these lot." Jovianne swung her hand over to Poppy and Lily, Amber who was reading a book in the corner, and Casey playing on her DS.

"Amber's big enough to handle a few hours alone."

"Oh, so she's old enough to be alone, but I'm not?" Jovianne grinned at her father so he knew she was joking.

Gordon shrugged. "As far as I'm concerned, the tallest female in the family is the most important."

"Just cause Amber's freakishly tall!" Casey suddenly called out, causing Amber to swat her on the head with a book. Amber was indeed exceptionally tall for a ten year old, standing an inch about the 4' 11" Jovianne. Gordon figured Amber would make a great track star, especially for her love for sports.

Gordon grabbed his coat. "Let's go, then."


	20. Anticipation

**(Thanks to A Mosaic Masterpiece, Patts9009, jamessss, zackt2010, LocalTalent53 and Angie2282... geez, is this really that popular O.o... woops, just jinxed it. Right then, let's catch up with skaters and are resident 'handsome devil'. Read on! **

Dominique sat on the bench feeling nervous. In only two hours she would be in a crowd of over six thousand for her figure skating competition. Her hair was sleek, patterned with glitter and still in the ponytail style she always wore. Faint white powder covered her face, along with dark blue eyeliner and more glitter making her beautiful face stand out all the more. However, the most impressive thing was her costume. A dark blue leotard with silvery fake gems, glittering across the light. There were hundreds and hundreds of the sequins, gathering more towards her chest area and down between her breasts as well as her belly.

The competition was simple. Do the performance, get rated on it. It was the final, and it was nerve-racking beyond all belief. Ten different teams, different styles – all a potential winner. The previous winners had made it through as well, whose style was classic – ballroom dancing on ice, technically. Other notable contestants were the husband and wife of 30 years, the Jamaican brothers with an unusual reggae style, and even a group of three bartenders. It wasn't typical figure skating. Partners did not have to be different gender. You could go up to four in a group, and down to one. Only one person was by themselves though, a young 18 year old.

Looking at the competition, it would be hard. Though she and Samuel had practiced for a long time. Moves they kept hidden away, that would shock the crowd. Usually, she wouldn't be afraid. Yet... learning they were going to die? Could she really risk those moves?

_Yes._

The decision was made before she could think about it. Dominique couldn't give up. Years of hard work, from both her and Samuel. It was a dream come true. Quite frankly, it was destiny. To Samuel it meant the world and more.

To Dominique... it meant Samuel.

She knew it. Deep down in the depths of her heart, she loved Samuel. They were childhood friends, grew up together. They had long passed the 'best friends' category. They chatted, they talked, and they were _made_ for each other. Samuel hadn't said anything though. Yet... if they won (_Once they won) _Dominique would confess. She'd hug him, kiss him, and confess her love.

People thought she was spoilt, that she wasn't deserving of a 'fairy tale story'. True, she could ask for anything she wanted. Yet, she couldn't ask for love. All the years with Samuel was what made love.

"What's buggin' ya?"

Dominique gasped before turning around to see Samuel smirking at her. "Ass." She pouted.

"Bitch." Samuel retorted friendly. "You look awesome."

"Same to you." Dominique replied, standing up and sifting her hands through Samuel's dark brown hair, which was down from the usual spikes so it slicked behind his head. Samuel stepped back and did a little twirl, earning a small laugh from Dominique.

He was wearing the same shade of blue, made up on only wristbands and trousers. The trousers were similar in terms of the amounts of sequins, which increased in quantity around his waist, the side of his legs, and the hems of his trouser legs. The wrist bands were just below his elbow, with two long ribbons hanging from each, both sequined.

In his hands hung the skates, which were exactly the same as Dominique's. They'd put them on just before the first act went out. Both skates were blue, sequined of course, with silver laces. They had left the blades alone to avoid imbalance.

"Nervous?" Samuel asked, sitting down next to her.

"Of course." Dominique nodded, hugging her chest. She felt unnaturally cold. "Who wouldn't be?"

"True." Samuel smiled and put an arm around her neck. "Been a long time since I saved you, hasn't it? So many years later and here we are. Youngest couple to have gotten to the finale."

"I thought you didn't want to talk about that... the drowning, I mean." Dominique frowned.

Samuel sighed, looking to the floor. "That's because I feared that if I talked about it, it would make you nervous... scared to perform for this big event. I see I was wrong. From the pretty young girl I saved from drowning to the grown up woman I see before me."

Dominique felt her cheeks grow hot and looked away. "Stop it."

"Sorry." Samuel laughed and stood up. "I'm feeling so goddamn nervous. With the moves we got going..."

"It'll be fine." Dominique reassured, confusing herself as she was thinking these same thoughts.

"Yeah, I guess. We've performed the move countless times. Ain't gonna fail on the big stage. You're like my little sister, I got to protect you from any and all incidents."

Even though the gesture was nice and loving in a friend, Dominique felt her heart drop twenty feet. She was like a little sister? Nothing more? _Shut it Dominique! He's just afraid to admit it! Once you win, and you will, you'll be happy together!' _

"Thank you." Dominique smiled at Samuel and grabbed his arm.

**XXX**

Dalton was walking along the street, picking his teeth with a nail. God, he was bored. He tried heading over to Scott's, but he was gone along with Tom. Gervais was being an ass so Dalton decided not to talk to him. Kicking a stone, Dalton watched it bounce along the pavement before hitting a puddle. His eyes couldn't help but move up you a young couple, the mother holding a small girl with a pink dress.

**XXX**

"_Dalton, look at this! Look at this!" Eliza DiLaurentis smiled and waved at her brother, pink dress rippling slightly in the wind._

_ "What is it?" Dalton, 13, looked to his ten-year old sister, irritation plastered on his young – but handsome even then – face. He was often called the 'milk-man's' son because he looked so different from his parents. _

_ "That looks so awesome!" Eliza pointed down the hill towards a flat expanse of wasteland. _

_ "A wasteland? How is that awesome, brat?" Dalton managed to climb up to his sisters side on the hill and saw the construction side, apparently abandoned although it looked as if it had started yesterday. _

_ "Let's play!" Eliza quickly ran down the hill, causing Dalton to groan. "Little brat!" Despite the angel-like appearance, Eliza was more like Dalton then he'd like to admit. Teasing, a constant curser, and a hell of a job to take care of. Dalton actually felt sorry for his parents to spawn TWO devils. With a sigh, Dalton jogged down to his sister who was already at the bottom of the hill._

_**XXX**_

Dalton smiled to himself as the memory flashed through his mind. As far as he knew, the construction site had been abandoned and no-one had gone to clean up in a long while. Ignoring the wind and the rain, Dalton headed towards the old wasteland where he and his sister used to play. It would bring back old memories. Good ones. A time before the tragedy struck.


	21. Truth & Consequences

**(Thanks ****to LocalTalent53 and A Mosaic Masterpiece for the reviews! I really did jinx it last chapter XD Right, let's have some fun with Dalton, shall we? Read on!) **

Dalton had come to the construction site fifteen minutes after he thought about Eliza, smiling as he looked down the hill towards the rusted construction. How the hell it survived all these years Dalton didn't have a clue. Shivering in the rain, Dalton started down the hill, careful of the slippery mud. A flash of lightning caught him off guard and he tumbled down.

"Fuck..." Dalton cursed, standing up and wiping the mud of his face. Looking around he saw the wall. Even that was still standing? Then he saw a black... something... on the floor. Interested, Dalton walked over then froze. It was a man, that much was certain. The top of his head was blown half-way to hell, but the bottom half was merely flecked with blood, a smile on the man's face. Dalton gagged, holding his mouth. "Jesus Christ almighty!"

As Dalton looked at the body, he realised that he recognised the clothes. The scuffed shoes. The shirt...

"Holy shit! Tom!" Dalton knelt down and all but confirmed it was indeed Tom. Looking around Dalton saw the pistol, and a conclusion immediately formed into his mind. "Couldn't handle it, eh? Don't blame you." Dalton straightened up when he saw the figure standing motionless next to the wall. He was looking... no, watching Dalton sending shivers down his spine. Then another conclusion came to his mind. Tom was murdered.

Nevertheless, Dalton took a step forward towards the could-be murderer. "Hey! Who're you? Did you do this?"

The man took a step backwards, before sprinting away. Acting on instinct, a sense of heroism, and slight stupidity, Dalton ran after the man in search of answers. As he ran, he dialled the police and the ambulance, considering that it was something serious.

**XXX**

The hospital was the same one in which they were taken after the explosions. Brandon and Scott stared up at the sign, before heading inside. Scott looked around to the receptionist and headed straight for her as Brandon found shivers running down his spine. Hospitals were also bad in scary movies or games. Silent Hill, Resident Evil... Hospital's were a big no-no.

"Hello." Scott said, facing the young receptionist.

"Hi, can I help you?"

"Hopefully. I'm looking for Lewis McKinley, do you know where I can see him?"

The receptionist smiled. "Lewis? He hasn't had visitors in a long time. Can I ask who you are?"

"My name is Scott. That's Brandon. We're doing a project for school about famous names of New York, and we figured you can't get any bigger than McKinley. We'll be very respectable, and won't pry into it too much."

Brandon's eyes widened slightly at Scott's fluidity of Lying, but shrugged it off. Better than just saying they wanted to research Death.

"Lewis will be happy to talk about history. He always talks to the nurses and the doctor's, although they are too busy to really talk to him."

Brandon watched as the receptionist gave instructions to Scott, noticing the breeze was coming from a fan embedded in the wall, spinning fast. He felt almost captivated, the spinning, the-

"Hey, Brandon."

Brandon blinked, shaking his head and following Scott, who had started to walk off towards the indicated direction. "Coming."

**XXX**

"Hey! Stop!" Dalton shouted, his shoes skidding through the mud. Managing to keep his foothold he touched across the road and ran across, narrowly missing a lorry. The man had reached across the road, where a motel stood. Cursing himself for making this harder for himself, Dalton followed, seeing the man run up some outside steps.

Leaping two steps at a time Dalton continued on, years of football barely making him break sweat. The man turned a corner, pushing past another man with a dog.

"Hey, stop him!" Dalton yelled, but the man just stared, dumb-founded. Cursing, Dalton skidded around the corner and pumped his arms, eyes concentrating on the man's back.

Climbing up another set of stairs the man continued to head towards the third floor before sprinting down the corridor.

"Why the hell're you running!" Dalton roared, closing in towards the more exhausted man.

"Go away!" The man screamed, grabbing the side and promptly leaping off. For a moment Dalton though the man had just committed suicide, until he saw him land on a balcony. Cursing himself once more, Dalton took a step backwards before leaping across to the balcony and rolling, getting an extra burst of speed from momentum.

The man had run through an open glass door, into some bodies room. Dalton found that it was actually an old woman, who was sitting obliviously on the chair watching TV. Dalton just passed and went through the door, into a padded corridor. As soon as he stepped through he was promptly clubbed in the face by a forearm, flooring him.

"Fuck me!" Dalton caused, groaning as he saw the man run away. Just as the man was about to reach another set of stairs a door opened and slammed straight into the man's face with enough force to break his nose. Bouncing back, the man landed on his back, writhing on the floor.

"Well, what do you know? I thought I heard you."

Dalton moved his hand away from his face to see Gervais smirking at him. "Oh. Great." Dalton got up and walked towards the man.

"Why are you chasing a man?" Gervais questioned, leaning across the doorway.

"I found Tom." Dalton panted.

"So..."

"With the top of his head practically missing, a gun at his side, and this guy at the scene."

"Oh." Gervais nodded understandably. "So this guy's a murderer."

"Might be." Dalton looked to see the man was actually quite young, despite looking worn. "Who're you?"

"P-P-Peter, please, don't hurt me."

"Did you kill that man?"

"I had too!" Peter gasped. "He-He ruined my life!"

"Revenge?" Dalton sighed. "I can relate to that I guess. Still, murder is murder so, you're going to be going to the police."

"No! It was self defence."

Dalton let out a sharp laugh. "That's what I'm telling the police once I get my own revenge."

"What're you talking about Dalton?" Gervais questioned.

"Self defence. Once I find the scum who killed Eliza, I'm going to plead self-defence."

"D-D-Dalton?" Peter muttered, drawing Dalton's attention. He noticed that the man had gone completely pale. "Did you say Dalton? And... and Eliza?"

"I did..." Dalton narrowed his eyes in suspicion. "Why?"

Peter gulped. "I... I'm sorry... it was an accident! I didn't mean to kill her! I... I... lost control, I wasn't thinking... it was a mistake! A mistake which ruined my life!"

"What're you saying?" Dalton breathed, feeling his chest tighten. Gervais watched on, carefully keeping an eye on Dalton. His fists were clenched as well as his teeth. He had the aura of a stalking cat to a mouse. A lion to a gazelle. A killer to a victim.

"I wanted to tell you! I did!" Peter cried out. "But... my wife was more important, and I didn't want to get put away, and-"

Dalton took a deep breath. "Y-You? You... killed... my Eliza?"

Peter gulped audibly. What had started out in an attempt to be let go seemed to have escalated into something much worse. "I... It was a mistake! I didn't mean to! A mistake! Mistake!"

The last thing Peter saw was Dalton lunging towards him, fury etched into his eyes extending to the depths of his heart.


	22. The Origin

**(Thanks to A Mosaic Masterpiece, jamesss, LocalTalent53, zackt2010, Pokepal100, and Patts9009 for the reviews! Holy goddamn I hate A-Level Coursework... arg... nevertheless, I try my best. Hopefully this chapter shall wet your appetites for the time being.)**

Scott quietly opened the door and slipped in, Brandon following soon after. The old man on the table turned his head to see the two boys.

"Visitors? I have not had visitors in such a long time." Lewis McKinley was once a handsome man, though age had taken over. His hair was all but gone, liver spots down the back of his head. His teeth were crooked and eyes narrowed. Wrinkles covered his drawn face, but even so he still looked somewhat proud. A man who has done everything he had wanted to do. "To whom do I owe the pleasure?"

"My name is Scott North. This is Brandon Bittner. We... want to talk to you."

"Talk to me?" Lewis let off a throaty laugh. "Since when do people want to hear me talk? The closest I have come to a conversation is complaining about that fan." Lewis raised a frail finger to a spinning fan above his head. "I always said it would fall and kill me, but no, they think I'm disillusioned. Do you not see it rattling?"

It was true. The fan was rattling, letting of a faint noise that indicated lose fan-blades.

"Why are you afraid of being killed by that fan?"Scott asked, sitting down on one of the chairs as Brandon stood against the wall.

Another throaty laugh. "I am not an ignorant fool, as much as people suggest. Scott North. Brandon Bittner. Survivors of the explosions at Greythorn School. Kids on a list. Kids who are going to die."

Brandon stiffened, although Scott didn't seem too surprised.

"That is true. I don't believe you are ignorant. You are a smart man, Lewis."

"Smart? You call estranging your son smart? You call not caring that your grandson was crushed by a sign with 'McKinley' on it? I am many thing, Master North, smart is not one of them. I am a foolish, old man waiting for the end. I thought I could avoid it, I was wrong. You cannot avoid the curse, or whatever it is. It will always happen, no matter what you do. You could try killing yourself, have a new baby, kill someone else. No matter what, you cannot stop death."

"Were you on a list of your own?" Scott asked.

"I still am." Lewis whispered. "I just want to die, but it seems that it's when you want to die that Death doesn't comply. At this rate I'll live for another five years, getting the pretty nurse cleaning up my own piss." Lewis spat the last word out, hate filling it. He hated not being able to supply his own human needs. "What information do you two want, Master North?"

"You know what we would like to know."

"The McKinley name, huh? It's true that it all relates to McKinley, isn't it." Lewis snorted. "An ancestor's mistake drives so many early deaths."

"So... are you confirming that all these... accidents... happened as a result of a McKinley?"

"From my information of my own father." Lewis said. "As far as my father is concerned, it all started in Egypt."

"Egypt?" Brandon questioned.

"Ancient Egypt. Day's where the sun was hot and work even more so. Slave and peasants, rich folk and prophets. Ancient rituals, gods. A time where technology didn't in any sense of the word. A simple, yet complicated world. A world of dare I say peace."

"Why would have it started in Egypt?" Scott asked, his eyes showing he was completely interested. He was actually leaning forward.

"My ancestor, who went by the name Archer McKinley, was one of the very first Englishmen to come to Egypt. He was interested in the arts, interested in the culture of this alien world. One of the things he was most interested in was the aspect of death. The Egyptians mummified corpses left them with possessions. They believed in things after death, and Archer could not understand this fact. According to Archer's son, his father had gone into a tomb. When he came back up, Archer was completely persuaded about the aspect of death. From that day on, Phoenix, Archer's son, was taught to worship Death."

"You mean Anubis, in that time, yes?" Scott questioned.

"Of course." Lewis sighed. "Then it happened."

"What happened?" Scott asked, causing Lewis to stiffen. His worn eyes stared straight into Scott's own.

"What happened? How dare you ask me that! You ignorant boy! No! No!" Lewis' eyes were wild, and with a harsh groan he managed to climb off the bed and step shakily towards Scott, who looked rather worried. "I shouldn't have spoken out of turn! I should not have revealed what I did! It is a false truth!"

"What do you mean?" Scott questioned, stepping towards Lewis and grabbing his shoulders. "What happened with Archer? What happened, Lewis, it is important! You could save lives."

"Lives? What about my Ian! My grand-child? What about my father, his father, and his father before him! Why should other people survive when the McKinley name is such as it is! A curse! No matter how we try to redeem, it comes back to haunt us! Haunt us!" Lewis suddenly raised his hands and grabbed Scott's face, thumbs digging into his eyes. "DIE! DIE! DIE!"

Scott yelled out, surprised at the old man's strengths. Despite being much younger and healthier, Scott couldn't push Lewis off. The pressure on his eyes was started to hurt, he feared that they were about to-

"Get off him!"

Brandon leapt forward and grabbed Lewis' shoulders, pulling the old man backwards with surprising strength. Lewis fell against the bed, back first when a horrible cracking sound was heard. Both Brandon and Scott looked up to see the fan in the ceiling drop straight down, crashing into Lewis' face as it spun. Blood and brain-matter from the old man splashed across the whole room, coating Scott and Brandon's chest.

"Fuck... fuck... fucking..." Brandon panted, stumbling to the wall and panted.

"Holy..." Scott moved forward but immediately drew back. No chance of Lewis surviving. Was that it? "No. We have to find some other way to find out about Archer. This... this is more important than ever..." Scott said, more to himself than anything. Then a ringing sound was heard. "Oh, great timing." Scott pulled his phone out and was surprised to see it was Gervais' number. Thank god he had the sense to get it. "Hello, Gervais, what is-"

Brandon watched as Scott was interrupted, and promptly turned pale. After a minute he nodded. "I see."

Scott clicked the phone off and looked to Brandon. "Bad news. Tom is dead."

"What?" Brandon exclaimed. He knew Tom was the leader like guy, although he didn't have much interaction.

"Not only that. Dalton's been arrested for murder." Scott looked torn. "That's two good guys out of the equation..." Scott took a deep breath, before suddenly slamming the mobile against the wall with surprising force, breaking the phone into pieces. "God damn it!" Scott roared, his shoulders shaking. "Damn! Damn! DAMN!"

"Hey, Scott..." Brandon took a step forward but Scott backed away, hitting the wall. His eyes were wide, his arms shaking.

"We... we were too concentrated on finding some stupid information that won't help us in any way..." Scott slid down the wall until he was sitting on the floor. Looking up to Brandon, he looked at him with blank eyes. "I should've had the sense to go with Tom. I... I... I made a wrong decision. I..." Scott looked completely broken, even as the door opened and a shocked nurse came in, staring at Lewis' bloody corpse. Even as more people started to filter in, doctors and nurses, Scott stared blankly at the corpse, unable to comprehend the simple fact that he had made a mistake.

**(Right, so I hope you liked it. Yes, the whole Egypt thing will be expanded and controlled upon down in Egyptian Heritage when I get writing to it. **

**It'll also be expanded if Scott can find some way to discover Archer McKinley's past... hmm... I call Museum! **


	23. True Love

**(Thanks to Angie2282, coolman123, jamesss, A Mosaic Masterpiece, LocalTalent53, and Patts9009 for the reviews! **

**Right, my schedules gone crazy, so I'll be updating when I can. There won't be a direct schedule anymore. I'll submit when I can, so... yeah. Anywho, read on!) **

Eddy Levitz took a deep breath as he ran a hand through his oily hair. God, he hated his job, hated his life, but was too goddamn cowardly to do anything about it. Stuck in a dead-end job as a receptionist, life really couldn't get worse for him.

After watching the boy with the bags go into the elevator, Eddy had decided to screw it. After all, the owner was out of town, and the only people who came to the apartments in the middle of night were drunks, whores, drug-users or a combination of all three.

Twisting a small sign around, which said 'back for lunch' (Eddy let out a small laugh at this), the receptionist got up off the desk, grabbed his bag, and left the apartment completely oblivious to the boy stuck in the elevator.

**XXX**

Dominique took a deep breath, her eyes narrowed in concentration. The crowd was deathly silent as the spotlight focused on the glittered girl. The music had gone quiet as well, making the arena completely silent.

Then the music started increasing and Dominique started skating forwards, the ice-skates carving through the ice. The music got faster and faster as the spotlight followed Dominique. Now fast enough, Dominique stretched her hands and clasped them on a waiting Samuel who was already spinning on the spot.

With surprising upper-body strength, Samuel kept Dominique up as the spun around for one turn, two turns, three... four... Samuel suddenly let go while raising his hands, causing Dominique to gain height in the air where she continued rapidly spinning. The crowd gave a great collected gasp before Dominique landed, balancing herself out and skating back to Samuel, where the two clasped hands and bowed as the music stopped.

The crowd erupted, cheering for easily the most exciting 6 minute performance they saw that night.

Dominique grinned to herself, smiling inwardly. That was the best they could have done. All those years practising, in the gym, at the rink, it all came to this moment and quite frankly... it was perfect.

**XXX**

15 minutes after their performance, the results were announced. Dominique and Samuel came first, to the delight of both the crowd and themselves. After being awarded the medals, wading through some fans, the two finally reached the locker-room.

Dominique let out a very uncharacteristic squeal and hugged Samuel deeply. "That was great! Thank you!"

"Why're you thanking me?" Samuel asked with a small laugh. "You did most of the work."

Dominique smacked his chest lightly. "Don't be silly. We both did equal parts."

"If you say so." Samuel smiled and turned towards the door, ready to head to the male changing rooms.

'_Come on Dominique, come on! This is it, you promised yourself, you promised yourself this and if you don't do it, then-'_

"Hey, Dominique."

Dominique was drawn from her thoughts as Samuel turned around, fidgeting. "Yeah?"

Without a second though, Samuel threw himself at Dominique, grabbing her with his toned arms and planting his lips on her own.

Dominique's eyes widened in intense surprise. Never in a million years did she expect Samuel to make the first move. Seconds after she shut her eyes and opened her mouth, allowing their tongues to meet.

Samuel was smooth and lovely, gentling pushing Dominique against the locker as he grabbed the straps of her leotard and another hand around the back of her head. Dominique was already grabbing at his trousers, trying to pull the skin-tight fabric off.

"Dominique!"

Samuel jumped like a rabbit and spun around against the wall, staring at the form of Dominique's father, one of the most important people of New York, looking at them. His mouth under the white moustache was twisted. His muscled fists from American Football all that time ago clenched in anger. The veins on his balding head showing like ugly worms. Even worse... no, the worst thing of all were the eyes. They were filled with unadulterated fury, complete and utter rage. Directed not as his daughter, but at Samuel.

Samuel knew it. Samuel knew he never should have made a move, never should have-

"Get away from my daughter you filthy cur!" Phillip Elizabeth grabbed Samuel's neck like he would a rabbit and threw him towards the door. Samuel hit the doorframe with his shoulder, falling to the floor in pain.

"Daddy! What are doing!" Dominique cried out, grabbing her father's shoulder. Surprisingly, Phillip grabbed her wrist and squeezed. Hard. Dominique whimpered.

"What the hell are you doing with that little... little retard, huh?" Phillip roared, spittle flying from under his moustache. "I actually took time out of my schedule to SEE you and this is what you do? You go ahead and... and... you kiss this piece of trash?"

"Samuel's NOT a piece of trash, dad! We're partners, you know that, I know that, so why are you-"

"Partners for figure skating, nothing more, nothing less! I told you, I warned you, not to involve yourself any more deeply with the man! He is a bad influence, a money fetcher, a fucking fraud!"

"Says you!" Dominique shrieked, pulling from her father's grasp to his surprise. "C-coming from a Governor!"

"What are you trying to say?"

"What, you think that money DOESN'T go into steroids?"

In an instant, Phillip had slapped Dominique hard across the face, sending her down to the floor in shock, almost catatonic. "Don't you DARE ridicule me, young lady! I OWN you! You are banned, you are grounded from figure skating, from exiting the house and ESPICIALLY hanging out with this spick of a boy!"

"Stop insulting him daddy!" Dominique cried, holding her red cheek and pointing t Samuel. He was still on the ground, staring at the fight before him with wide eyes.

"Oh? Why, huh, why? He is a retarded specimen from the bottom of a jar! His mother's a no-good whore and his fathers a-"

"I love him!"

All sound disappeared as Dominique swung her hand with an expert fury, slapping Phillip straight into his face, staggering him. It contained much more fury, much more emotion behind it than Phillip's own.

Dominique let out a loud sob as Samuel stared on, surprised. He had kissed her just because the situation called for it. More of a winning kiss. But she... loved him?

"I love Samuel!" Dominique cried. "I love him so much! I'd die for him! Unlike you, who beat mother and then used the divorce to get money. Unlike you who is corrupt, unlike-"

Phillip reached forward and grabbed her neck, squeezing it so she fought for breath.

"You are just like your mother. You never knew when to-"

"Get off her!"

Phillip turned around to receive a ice-skate to the face. The blade sliced through his eye and nose, cutting deep into his head. Phillip let out a gurgle, before falling to the floor.

"Sh-shit... shit, shit, shit!" Samuel covered his mouth and turned to Dominique. She was completely still. Acting quickly before she started to realise the intensity of the situation, that he had just murdered a _governor_, Samuel grabbed her arm. "Come on, Dominique, come on, we can't stay here."

Dominique was too shocked to react and allowed herself to be pulled away, leaving the body of Phillip Elizabeth behind.


	24. Breakdown

**(Thanks to *deep breath*... LocalTalent53, A Mosaic Masterpiece, Pokepal100, jamesss, Meowth's Toon Dragon, zackt2010, Patts9009, Toufuu Logan, and coolman123 for the reviews! Phew... This chapters written slightly different deliberately, so just hang with it XD Well, read on! **

Scott was shaking badly. He had to clench his fists to stop them from continually shaking. Since he was a bystander, Scott was told to talk to the police later, while Brandon was taken away to be questioned. Deciding to go home, Scott couldn't help but think he had made a completely wrong choice.

He was young, yet he was likely the most mature person in school in terms of students. He was smart, very, very smart. Physics? A piece of cake. History? Done and dusted. Art? Easily done. Every subject he took he was great in. Everything he had ever done was perfection personified.

If people needed help, they went to Scott. Even people like Gervais and Dalton came to him, despite his age. Scott was simply the man with the answers, the smarts, and the know-how to become whatever the hell he wanted to be. That could be a cook, scientist, writer... literally _anything. _

The thing was, he agreed with what he done. Everything worked the way Scott wanted it to work out. He knew what he would get; he knew how it would go. The answers to questions were stored in his head. Whenever he made a decision, he was sure it was the right one.

Yet... Yet... he had left Tom. In the back of his mind he had misgivings. In the back of his mind he knew he should have gone with him. Now Tom was dead. Now, essentially, the leader was gone. William had given up, Gervais had fucked off, and Tom was... dead...

Scott was hard to anger. Hard to stress. He studied well, and never got over-worked. The only other time he was extremely angry was when he was young. Younger than most people remembered.

Scott remembered that time when he was only three years old. He was going to go on a business trip, with his mother, Karen, and he father, Howard. Howard always wanted to take the family to his job, since he was a scientist which both Karen and Scott were interested in, and it was fair to say Scott was excited. Yet moments before he got in the care, something his young brain couldn't comprehend hit him. Somehow, somewhere he knew that he should not get in that car.

So he screamed. He screamed, he yelled, he cried and had a complete and utter tantrum. Having no idea what to do, Karen had taken Scott back into the house, apologizing to Howard. Howard shrugged it off, and went to work.

Four hours later it was revealed that a lab had exploded due to a gas leak. Confirmed among the dead was one Howard North.

From that day, despite being only three, Scott knew that he made a mistake in not trying to stop his dad – god knows how he would have done that. In his small, analytical mind he decided that he would be perfect. Perfect for Karen, be the perfect son, the perfect man of the house. He would fill Howard's shoes and he would surpass his father while keeping his memories deep in his heart.

People looked to Scott with a degree of fear when he first came to school. He was smart, and was even offered to move up although Scott declined. People were scared of his perfect nature. Clothes always washed, hair always cut to an exact length. His desk was always set out in exactly the same way. Pens on the left, pencils on the right, everything else at the back.

Scott was perfect in every sense of the word, yet he had finally made a mistake. He had made the mistake of not going with Tom, and now Tom was dead because he didn't...

"NO!" Scott shouted to himself, shutting off the thoughts. Surprisingly angry, Scott smashed his hand on top of a steel bin outside of his house. Cut the thoughts off. This isn't your fault, this isn't anyone's fault. This is just a bad thing which happened, and you knew it would happen eventually. He was going to die that day and you wouldn't have been able to do anything about it. He accepted it Scotty-Boy, Tom accepted it and he knew it would happen so STOP BLAMING YOURSELF!

Scott panted, running two hands through his hair. Calm, calm, calm... that's it, calm yourself. You're a good boy, you're intelligent, you can do this, you can do this. People dying is just natural, you gotta ignore the dead people and focus on the living. Got to save who you can and to do that you got to find out about Archer and whatever the hell happened in Egypt.

No... no, not good enough! What if they all die when you're searching? What if you could've saved them? What if you failed that exam? Exam? What's that got to do with anything? Oh my goddamn god I'm going crazy... ha... geez...

"Scott?"

Scott looked up, broken from his frantic thoughts to see his mother standing in the doorway. Karen looked shaken and pale. "Scott, what's wrong?"

Wrong? Wrong! Everything's wrong! The world is wrong! The government is wrong, school is wrong, I'm wrong!

"Scott?"

That's my name, refrain from wearing it out. Speak Scotty-boy, you are going crazy, that's your mother, you love her, you love her more than anything in the world so speak! Stop worrying her! You are one smart person, and you can do this! Open your mouth, and say something, anything, please! Come on, stop thinking to yourself and do it you failure! I'M NOT!

"Are you all right?" Karen asked, stepping towards the boy.

Peachy. Excellent. Perfection personified! I lived for you, and never focused on my own life and look where that got me! Nope, Scott, you love her, you'll do anything for her! Don't blame mum, don't blame Karen this is NOT her fault, no way, no how. Gotta say something, stop worrying her. Wait one moment, where'd the sun go? What time is it, can't be that late, well it could but... woah... the world should most definitely not be spinning. Crap, crap, this ain't good. It's all catching up to you Scotty-boy, all catching up to you! Death ain't good, can't handle bad, can't handle it, gotta do good. I like A's in exams, they are good. Death is NOT good, not good at all. Oh look, the floor is... coming... ah fuck.

With that last thought, Scott collapsed to the pavement at his mother's feet.


	25. The Saviour

**(Thanks to coolman123, A Mosaic Masterpiece, zack2010, LocalTalent53, Meowth's Toon Dragon and jamess for the reviews! I really like this chapter, by the way. One of my favourites. **

**Disclaimer: The 'Chants' featured in this chapter are not my own. **

**With that, read on!) **

"_This circle of protection moves with me,_

_It goes where I go, _

_It bends where I bend, _

_It protects me on all sides, _

_From all things seen and unseen,_

_So mote it be!" _

The deep voice rang out loud and clear, each word a word of power, each word echoing over the wind and the splattering of the rain. As the last word died into silence, Elliot Spikey fell to his knees. Around him was a circle made of luminous paint across the concrete floor, with bells going from North, North-East to North-West. Eight bells, each ringing as the rain hit into them.

Elliot was kneeling in an old stone building on the outskirts of the city. It was so well hidden that not even graffiti harmed its cracking walls. An old, worn pylon stood above it, the only mark of civilization from the spot Elliot kneeled.

'_I have protected myself from harm. Now to start.'_

Elliot took a deep breath and took the glasses from his face, placing them in his pocket. He was well aware of the scepticism, the disbelief of what he did. He was not a religious man by any means. There were no gods, no son who was resurrected. However, he did completely believe in the power of curses and prayers. To help and to hinder. This power was passed down in the generations, each of his family benefiting from the power.

What the power was, Elliot did not know. Not even the first recorded Spikey knew. It was an unknown power which was harnessed by the spirit of those who were pure.

_'Now for the initiation, for I am protected.' _

Elliot took another deep breath, before bowing his head and placing his hands across the cold concrete floor, ignoring the wind which stung his eyes and the rain throwing itself through the open doorway.

"_Earth, Air, Fire, Water_

_Everything that's to my desire_

_Day in and day out_

_My abilities I do not doubt_

_Mother I look at you as you look to me_

_My spirit floats with you oh so free. _

_Oh my mother you gave me this power_

_I raise my spirit from this place_

_To be with you face to face just to tell you, _

_I now want to go further and dedicate myself to this path on_

_This very hour!" _

Elliot's voice thickened on the last word and he felt the power rush through his veins like a drug. The familiar feeling of detachment, of going away from the plane of Earth. In his mind's eye, he saw the raging beast standing tall above New York. Its head disappeared into the cloud, its skin mottled and burning. It pointed to each person, indicating the next death.

'_He is here.' _Elliot gulped. He knew of the existence, but nevertheless he was a scared old man. He knew the danger, yet he knew that he had to do it for the good of those who were innocent.

"_You, beast, look at me!" The raging beast stopped its hands and ducked its head, showering Elliot with evil and malice. "I am the messenger, the herald, I am the Saviour! You manipulate the innocent like a puppeteer with strings. You have no reason, no possible reason for this! Beast! Know your place as the son of the devil; know your place as the warden of death. You let events takes its natural course and you do not interrupt! Why! Why do you hunt those who are not meant to die? Why are so angry? You have no reason! You are powerful and I respect you, but nevertheless it is time for you to disappear! Tyrant! Beast! Disappear! I am the Saviour and you shall heed my words!" _

The beast turned its head towards Elliot, before raising a hand and a gnarled finger towards the middle-aged man. Emotions at worst invaded Elliot's mind. Watching his mother hanging from the rope, the racist remarks, the disbelievers, the attacks, the fear, the horrible malice, the death, the death...

The Beast laughed, deep and true. Rumbling like...

The thunder was so deep and loud it drew Elliot out of his reverie. Sweat poured down his face as his eyes narrowed. The force, it was too powerful. It was unbelievable. The beast that could not be tamed.

Elliot looked to the sky when a sudden lightning strike burst forth, blinding Elliot for a second. A loud _boom _later, Elliot opened his eyes to see the blackened wood of the pylon creaking a cracking. A moment later he saw the still sparking pylon wire curving towards him.

The wire barely scraped his cheek, but nevertheless the volts went straight through his body and into his suffering heart. It strained, struggled, but stopped beating.

Lifeless, Elliot fell backwards as the wire whipped away, landing heavily on his back, spread eagled. His feet and his hands touched the edge of the circle, his head staring lifelessly up to the heavens. His eyes showed it all though. All of Elliot's belief's; the belief of the power, the belief of being a saviour, was shattered in one fell swoop from the storm.

Previously unknown to Elliot, a figure stepped through the door, shaking his head at Elliot sadly.

"A belief is not reality, Elliot. You didn't have a chance." With a deep sigh, the figure shook his head.

"So you just follow the people to see if they die?" Another voice asked, a figure appearing next to the first.

"I wanted to see if Elliot's beliefs held true. There was a chance, if slim; that what he was doing was the correct way. As I suspected it is not so."

"So what do we do now, hm? Give up?"

"I am not a man to give up easily."

"Apart from... y'know, when you gave up."

"That was an act, you should know that." William Bludworth turned towards his companion. "It is time for me to try that plan. In theory it should work."

"Never liked theory." The companion sniffed. "Since Dalton killed someone, it skips him, right?"

"For now, correct." William nodded. "It is Jessie Colon next. I will be able to find out where he lives."

"This plan better work William. I'd rather not be in the firing line of death a second time." As the figure finished, a flash of light illuminated his face quickly, showing burns criss-crossing his face and neck and disappearing under his collar. "Let's go and get this over and done with, eh?"

"Of course. If this strategy works, we have finally solved the problem." William stepped out of the room, followed closely by his companion, who glanced at Elliot's body with a sniff before walking outside into the ever-increasing storm.


	26. Going Down

**(Thanks to A Mosaic Masterpiece, LocalTalent53, coolman123, JAmesss, and zackt2010 for the reviews! Ladies and Gentlemen, please allow me to introduce the start of one of my favourite plot twists, (I'll explain later), read on! **

With his head throbbing something fierce, Scott opened his eyes to come face to face with a beautiful face. Blinking away spots of light, he groaned as the face moved backwards.

"He's awake!"

Raising an eyebrow, Scott looked around the small room he in. With a combination of white and light blue, Scott realised that he was in some kind of hospital room. His mother, Karen, was leaning over him, while more surprisingly was Jovianne sitting in the corner, flanked by a large man. _Her father? _Scott thought.

"Scott, are you okay?"

"I'm fine, mum." Scott smiled at his mother, who looked pale and worried.

"What happened?" Karen asked. "Scott, what happened? You were... you were acting all weird, I thought... maybe..."

"Ssh." Scott said, hoisting himself into a sitting position. "Calm down. Just... just everything catching up to me rather uncomfortably. Why am I in the hospital?"

"People who collapse tend to be taken to hospital." Jovianne spoke from her chair.

"True." Scott blinked. "But Jovianne, why are you here?"

"Ahh..." A faint blush found itself into Jovianne's cheeks. "I was looking for you, for, you know, answers about this... whole situation. I went to Tom's house since that was likely where you were, but you weren't there. So we went to your house where Karen invited us in for tea. Then we heard her yell out and found you unconscious."

Behind her, Jovianne's father squeezed Jovianne's shoulder tightly.

"What is it, dad?" Jovianne asked, turning back to her father.

"I really should go back to the girls. They'll be causing hell."

"Why don't you? I'll be fine, dad." Jovianne assured.

"But... what about you?"

"I'm a big girl. I'll stay with Scott, after all this is important, y'know. Take care of the girls." Jovianne said the last thing firmly.

With a last fidget, her father nodded reluctantly. "I know. You are a good girl. Stay safe, and I'll see you... tomorrow, then."

"Yeah, see you." Jovianne watched as her father left, before turning back to Scott. "So..."

"So?"

"So... what is happening?" Jovianne asked, leaning forward.

Scott sighed, before turning to his mother. "Can you get me something to drink? I'm kinda parched."

Karen, sensing that she didn't want to hear the following conversation, nodded and departed leaving Scott to start explaining to Jovianne.

**XXX**

Jessie found himself completely and quite simply bored out of his skull. Thankfully he wasn't too claustrophobic, otherwise he'd be in deep trouble. Instead, he just sat and thought to himself, avoiding the thoughts of his brother.

Every so often the elevator let out an ominous squeal, but it hadn't fallen like before. _Yet. _Jessie couldn't help but think. No, the thing which worried Jessie was the fact he was on some kind of list. He knew it was real, there was enough evidence. What's to say that he wasn't next? What's to say he wasn't going to fall all the way down the shaft in a clump of blood, bone shards, gore, and little bits of Jessie Colon. "Calm down!" Jessie muttered to himself, stroking a hand through his hair. Why his parents had to be out of town god only knew. That receptionist was useless, that was for certain. Everyone else in the apartment was either drunk, taking drugs, or a mix of the two. No, the apartment was cheap and that was the sole reason Jessie and his parents lived there. Especially since they payed for the funeral ceremony of his brother.

A sudden knocking on metal made Jessie jump, before yelling, "Hello? Is anyone there?"

"Aha! How fortunate." A deep voice replied. Deep enough that Jessie... no...

"William?" Jessie questioned. "That mortician with Tom, William?"

"Yes. I was half expecting to find you in your apartment, and not a broken down elevator. You are lucky I found you, since you are next on the list."

"What?" Jessie cried through the metal. "I'm next? To die you mean? I could die?"

"You could, but you won't. Trust me here."

"But I could die! Right now! How would you prevent this lift from falling down and killing me! I bet that is what's going to happen. I bet that's why it stopped and broke down. I'm going to die... I-I'm going to... to..."

"Calm down." William's voice came through again. "Please, Jessie, you will not die."

Jessie tried to calm himself down, finding it a very hard objective. For some odd reason he remembered Adam telling him to quit smoking. Jessie felt a sudden pang of emotion. Those were the last words Adam gave Jessie. '_See you bro. Just give up those cigarettes, yeah? Do it for me. You'll kill yourself'. _Once he found out Adam was dead, Jessie gave up in his honour. Jessie took a deep breath. Adam was soothing in his mind, despite his death, Adam remained. Adam was watching over him, Adam would make sure that he would quit. Quit smoking, and quit being so freaked out.

Then the elevator let out a huge crunch and dropped form it's restraints, soaring straight down the shaft.

**XXX**

Two minutes before, the scarred companion of William had made his way to the bottom of the elevator, pulling the flimsy doors open quite easily. Spitting on the ground, the man stepped into the oily shaft. He would've been almost gagging on the smell of oil. But thankfully most of his nose had been burnt off, including his sense of smell. _Thanking yourself for getting burned? Congratu-fuckin-lations sunshine. _

The man looked up, and saw quite high up the square box which was the elevator shaft. William was correct that the elevator was stuck, especially since it didn't come down when the called it. William suspected Jessie was stuck and moved up the stairs to him, commanding the man to stand under the elevator.

"I'm here." The man muttered to himself. "Now let's hope your plan doesn't get me killed, eh."

A sudden crunch made the man snap his head upwards as the elevator plummeted downwards. Fast. The man's eyes widen as he watched the metal box soar down, ready to crush him into tiny little pieces. _What a way to go, survived a fuckin' explosion and now getting crushed by a elevator. I prefer almost dying in an explosion. _The man closed his eyes, cursing William to hell for suspecting that the plan would work.

CRACK

The sudden noise, and the absence of bone-crushing pain, the scarred man opened one eye to see the elevator literally centimetres above his head. The man blew out a long breath, before smirking to himself. "Fuck me sideways, William was right for once? Hah... hahah..." The man whistled through his teeth. _Guess I owe him, huh. _

**XXX **

If the cliché of seeing your life pass before your eyes was true, Jessie would have certainly seen all 18 years of his life flash before him. Instead of that, however, the moment the elevator dropped he felt complete and utter fear. Blinding fear. Fear of the death that was sure for him, so much for William and his reassurances, this was real and he was about to –

CRACK

The elevator came to a quite sudden hold, sending Jessie face first into the floor, cracking a few teeth but otherwise unharmed. Not that Jessie realised that in the few seconds after. He was confident that he had just died, and for one moment he persuaded himself that ghosts were real and he'd open his eyes to find his broken body amidst the ruins of an elevator shaft.

Instead, when he opened his eyes, he was filled with grey. Then he blinked. Blinked again and opened his mouth, feeling around the annoying pain in his mouth. _Pain? Don't they say you don't feel pain when you die? _With this thought, Jessie felt the cold metal with his fingers, and pushed up. He saw the elevator doors, saw the floor, the walls, the ceilings. His arms, his legs. He felt an absurd feeling to laugh out loud. Managed to get to shaky feet, he leaned against the side of the elevator. He was okay... he was... okay...

Another creak was heard, before the doors slid open. The top half was still the elevator shaft walls, although the bottom half gave Jessie a lovely view of open floor and of the dark figure of William Bludworth.

Offering a hand, William pulled Jessie out of the elevator and onto the polished floor. Jessie stumbled forward, panting.

"William... I..." Jessie took a deep breath. "I thought... I was lucky... I was going to die."

"Not luck, my friend. Specification."

"Specification my ass Bludworth."

Jessie turned his head to see a man climb out of the elevator doors, covered in oil. The burnt man wiped his eyes and glared at Jessie.

"Who're you?" Jessie questioned, surprised at the oily and burnt man.

"A saviour." William said for the man with a smirk.

"Saviour? Are you telling me he _stopped _the elevator?"

"In a way." William smiled, before turning around and walking towards the exit. "Follow me."

Jessie, feeling confused and overwhelmed, had no choice but to follow William, flanked by the burnt man.

William exited the building and stopped on the sidewalk, turning to Jessie. "Jessie Colon. Am I too assume you believe in the aspect and force of death, yes?"

Jessie nodded mutedly.

"Good. In that case, let me introduce you to my friend, D-"

"William!"

The hiss of a whisper caught William off guard, and he looked over the street to see a figure standing next to a fence. Samuel took a deep breath, before clenching Dominique's hand. "Come on hon."

Samuel walked forward over the road, pulling Dominique with him. Dominique was motionless, her eyes wide. The shock of her father's death had come to her, and see had essentially gone into a standing coma.

"Samuel?" William questioned as the two walked across the road.

"William! I need to talk to you." Samuel said as he reached halfway across the road. A sudden beeping caught Samuel's attention, and he twisted his head to see a mini-van rushing straight towards him and Dominique, easily over the speed-limit. Samuel felt his blood run cold and was too shocked to move. The van was going to hit them.

Then a figure leaped in front of Samuel, arms spread wide. The mini-van came to a squealing halt, coming to a stop inches away from the burnt man's face.

"Third brush with death." The burnt man smirked, turning his head towards and smiling William and aghast Jessie. "William, you're right. I am a fuckin' saviour!"

**(Yes, yes, confusing probably I know. But this makes sense once I reveal the info relating on the burnt man and the situation. Trust me. XD) **


	27. The Black Parade

**(Thanks to A Mosaic Masterpiece, LocalTalent53, jamesss, PerryPlatypus100, coolman123, and zackt2010. Right! Right, right right, don't kill me! Sorry for the majorly late chapter, but that is a direct result of my internet dying and of my A-Levels. **

**So, here's some more bad news while I am at it: **

**Due to the f'n major workload, I will be changing my updates to the weekends. I don't want to, but that's the way it has to work. **

**When half terms and breaks come, I'll update during them as well. But on school days, I cannot update. I hope you appreciate this, and continue reading! **

**With that news, shorter chapter but a super duper important chapter. Be warned: super foreshadowing ahead! **

William had sent Jessie, Samuel, and Dominique to his own apartment to stay for the night, while he and the burnt man had discussions about the other survivors. In the end, they decided to call them in the morning in the hope that the next in line, Jovianne, would be safe.

**XXX**

The media coverage on Gervais' story, had quite frankly, been huge. Most of the main news channels were plastered with his interview, with massive headlines from newspapers to magazines. While people were generally aware of suspicious accidents, they were generally hushed. However, for the first time, an actual survivor, someone who SAW the accident, had spoken out and revealed the bone-crushing truth.

They should worship Death.

They were typically three reactions to this.

The first was complete and utter denial and outrage from the religious groups. Christian's on the whole were furious at Gervais for undermining their god and actually saying they should support the devil? Already various Christians had appeared on the news to cast Gervais view aside.

The second group were those who thought it was a typical phase of the human race, just another religion, just another thing which wouldn't affect them. After all, they had jobs that needed to be done and kids that needed to be fed.

The final group was the complete opposite of the first. Those who supported Gervais, those who believed him, and those who had extreme views. The conspiracy theorists who resided on forums stood up on their feet, cracked there knuckles, and sat down again for another blog on the pros of worshipping death or the devil.

It was the third which had humongous affect. The forums flooded with the first parade, the first praise to happen at midnight. They arranged the time and place, and gathered together. Old, young, woman and man. All joined together in a corrupt mind that only a human can have.

They wore black and grey. No white, no colour, just the colours of a funeral parade. Some even wore the suits and dresses they would've worn for their relations funerals. Some wore hoodies shadowing their faces, some even wore a full on monk robe.

Once everyone was gathered, they walked. Some held lighters in a fruitless attempt to make light, although the rain and wind quickly extinguished them.

They were silent and solemn. No word was said, no sound was made. Jaws held firm, heads held low. These men & woman marched down the street, ignoring the wind and the rain, walking through the darkness so they melded into one parade.

It was a chilling site to behold. From those who watched from windows, they felt the need to draw their curtains and distract themselves. The sight of the shuffling figures were horrible, a parade which enticed fear such as death and pain. The Black Parade.

**XXX **

Watching from an equally dark alleyway, Kris Thomas looked out from eyes that hadn't seen sleep in a long while. The vivid memory of Zoe's brutal death had sent him over the edge. He had ran, just ran.

It was incomprehensible, after all, he had practically met Zoe. But they had a connection; a connection if given the chance to thrive would've have become something much more. That chance was destroyed in a heartbeat. The love they would have had…

Kris took a deep breath, closing his eyes and clearing his mind. Memories of days ago seemed like years. He was a happy teacher, playing with the kids during physical education. Losing miserably at dodge ball, scoring the best in basketball. Memories of the smiling faces, his smiling face, gone and destroyed.

Because of Death?

Kris didn't think so. Death wasn't real, it just wasn't. It wasn't a coincidence either. No, Kris believed something was behind it and it hid behind the façade of a mortician.

William Bludworth.

He was the cause. It was obviously simple. Who was always there to 'console' the survivors, the give them ideas? Who was always they to try and save them but because of his own plans everyone ended up dead? William Bludworth.

Who popped up in multiple stories around the web? People who had talked to him, who had received plans from only to die hours later. William Bludworth.

Kris didn't blame Thomas, didn't blame anyone other than that one mortician. He would pay him back for the death of Zoe. It wouldn't be revenge, oh no, it'd be sweet, sweet justice.

Kris ducked out of the alleyway and silently joined the throng of the parade. He, like everyone in the parade, was praying. Not to some dark lord or evil entity, Kris was praying to whoever would listen.

_Give me the strength to kill William Bludworth! _

_**XXX**_

At that moment, events which would shape the events of all who were involved in the accident started to take place. Kris goal of killing William Bludworth would be the start of the end. Little did he know that as a result of his actions, Kris would not only be the murderer of one man, but of six men and one woman.

As a result of his actions, two men would remain in good health and one woman would remain breathing.

A simple prayer, a simple plea, would be the catalyst of it all. _Give me strength to kill William Bludworth! _

**(All right then, we have likely reached around the half-way point. I am hoping to reach fifty chapters, although I'll probably be just under that. **

**Sorry once more about the updating schedule, but yeah, it'll make it more… cliffhang…rey… yeah, allright. See ya! **


	28. The Decision Between Life and Death

**(Thanks to coolman123, zackt2010, LocalTalent53, jamesss and A Mosaic Masterpiece for the reviews! Right, it's currently half term which means I'll try to update a couple of chapters. However it's only a week and once it ends it'll be back to weekly updates. **

**Right, let us read on!)**

It was early in the morning, around 8 o'clock, but nevertheless all the remaining survivors (Other than Kris, Dalton and Gervais, of course) were sitting in William's apartment. His apartment actually freaked a lot of the survivors out, considering it was just... plain. There were no pictures, no flowers, nothing. The walls were white, the floor was cream. It was as if he had moved in but forgot everything he owned.

However, he still had some furniture which most sat on, although some leant against the walls or doorframes.

"William. What do you think we should do?" Scott broke the silence first, looking tired and worn despite getting a good night's sleep.

William took a deep breath, before looking down to the boy. "I believe before we decide on what to do, we should clear up some answers before we act."

"Like who that guy is?" Samuel asked, pointing to the bandaged man. "Who seems to be unable to die?"

"Eh? What do you mean?"Scott questioned, confused.

Samuel quickly relayed the mini-van incident, and then Jessie popped in the conversation about the elevator. Scott frowned, and turned to the man.

"You cannot die? How is that possible?"

"It's not." The bandaged man shrugged. "I'll die at a certain time."

Scott was about to ask something else, when William interrupted. "I am sure you must be confused, but my theory, well it is not a theory anymore, my... solution to surviving is quite simple really. All you have to do is ki-"

"No!" Jovianne exclaimed before William was finished. Having been told about everything from Scott, Jovianne now understood properly and as such was slightly frightened, but also wanted to avoid it someway. Nevertheless, there were some things she wouldn't do. "We can't kill anyone, William. We can't kill people to get our own lives back."

"If you would let me finish..." William sighed. "Believe me, Miss. Tablette, I know the frustrations of death and the situation of killing. I've seen a fair number of murderers in my day. Yet this is different you see."

"How can it be different?" Brandon challenged. "Killing a man is still murder, no matter the situation."

"Please allow me to finish." William repeated, still calm. "Some are blessed with the knowledge of when they will die. Terminal cancer victims for example."

"You got a twisted view of 'blessed', William." Brandon huffed.

"Due to my companion here," William continued, ignoring Brandon. "We have realised the solution, and this solution is what I propose we all do. If we know the week roughly that a cancer victim – or someone else – that they died, we can talk to them. If they... feel glad to know they can supply life to those who deserve it..."

"Are you kidding!" Jovianne exclaimed surprisingly loud. Anger was etched across her face, to the shock of those who knew her as calm. "You think people _deserve _to get cancer, William? You think that some higher entity gave it to them because they deserved to die slowly and watch their loved ones break down? No one deserves any illness, let alone cancer. If you are suggesting – which I sincerely hope you are not – that we kill terminal cancer patients because we know there time of death, then-"

"Jovianne. Please let him finish." Scott interrupted, causing an incredulous glance from the girl.

"Scott? You are not agreeing-"

"I want to hear him out." Scott took a breath. "William, continue."

"I have a companion who didn't want to die a slow death." William said. "He wanted to die quickly so that he didn't have to experience that pain. There was not any hope for him, considering that he had terminal cancer. He was to die a year from now, somewhere in October. So, my companion here did the deed."

"You killed-" Jovianne fumed but the bandaged man held up a hand.

"Be quiet, you're hurting my damn ears. The guy WANTED to die; I was just doing him a favour." The bandaged man let out a small cough. "Ya see, I killed the guy, true. He wanted to die so it is all fine. Now I know I will die in October next year, and I really don't care."

"Wait... you don't mean..." Scott's eyebrows furrowed.

"Exactly." William said. "My companion's death is set in fate. He WILL die in October, nothing can change that. Because of this, he cannot die until that moment. Any incident which could kill him would stop because he cannot die at the time."

"So the elevator..." Jessie whispered.

"...and the van!" Samuel concluded. "This... this is amazing news! We can avoid death without worrying about it."

"So... you have proof it works then. This man." Scott said slowly.

"I'm living breathing proof kid." The man smirked. "If I put myself in a situation which could result in my death, it would stop, allowing me to save people and in turn making me a saviour! I'm your salvation kids, unless you want to do what I did. No need to worry 'bout death in the short run. You can do all the things you want to do before your dead with the safe knowledge knowing when you'll die."

"That's... that's inhumane!" Jovianne protested. "That's still killing, that still not right! Killing is never right!"

"I agree." Brandon spoke up loudly. He gulped, before facing William. "We – Scott and I – we found another solution, at least, another possible solution. It doesn't involve murder, or even killing."

Jovianne's face brightened up as she turned to the horror buff. "What is it?"

"Scott was researching the incidents, since we thought you gave up. He found that the name McKinley in practically every incident. All around the country. After almost getting killed by Ian McKinley's dad, then again with the dad's dad, we found that this... curse, if you will... started all the way back in ancient Egypt, by a man named Archer McKinley."

"You have done some research." William smiled slightly. "However, I have already researched it and have concluded it won't work."

"I reckon it can!" Brandon opposed. "If we research enough, if, perhaps, we travel to Egypt itself and go to museums or look in libraries we can find information. Maybe find a direct relative who isn't crazy."

"You are a young fool if you think that would work."

"It's a better solution than killing people!" Jovianne spat, before turning to Brandon. "I want to help you. We can do this. Not only that, but if we found the solution we can save many more, can't we?"

"In theory..." Brandon muttered.

"So, a divide is it?" William questioned. "So be it. Since you two obviously don't want to live, I guess you can leave now."

"Fine." Jovianne stood up and looked at the others. "Whoever doesn't want to be a cold-blooded killer, come with us."

"Can't do. William's already said it's wrong, and he's the one who knows the most." Samuel said. "I'm staying with him, and Dominique is too, isn't that right?" Samuel turned to Dominique, who absently nodded, deep in though. It pained Samuel, especially the night before where she was screaming in her dreams. When she woke up, Dominique was back in her catatonic state.

"Jessie?" Jovianne asked, almost pleading.

Jessie took a breath. "I-I don't think I could k-kill someone... if there is a little chance of doing this with clean hands, I'll be with you."

"Thank you." Jovianne smiled, before finally turning to Scott. "Scott?"

Scott was quiet, chewing on his knuckle in thought.

"Scott, please..."

Scott closed his eyes. "I can see the allure of William's idea. We have living proof, so we know it works."

"Scott, no!"

"However..." Scott continued, opening his eyes and glaring at William with hatred in his eyes. "I am not going to live what remains of my life with regret, knowing I killed someone. I found that the origin may belong with Archer, and I intend to see this through. I'll do whatever it takes to find this solution, to my dying breath!" Scott stood up as Jovianne let out a sigh of relief. "William, the truth is, you are a foolish old man. Your 'solutions' merely lead to death. I hope for your sake that you won't feel the guilt of Samuel and Dominique's deaths."

With that, Scott turned on his heel and exited the room, followed by Jovianne and Brandon. Jessie looked back to William, with second thoughts, before sighing and following the other three.

"Split four-on-four eh?" The bandaged man laughed. "Least it's a fair race to live, eh, William."

"It is not a race." William sighed. "It is a mistake. Scott and Jovianne will lead both Brandon and Jessie to unfortunate deaths. I stopped investigating Archer McKinley because I knew what the result would be." William turned to Samuel and Dominique. "Let us mourn those who die before us and the fact that we shall be the only survivors."


	29. The Fall of Gervais Jean

**(Thanks to LocalTalent53, A Mosaic Masterpiece, jamesss, coolman123, and zackt2010 for the reviews! Allright, let's throw a wrench into the works, shall we? I enjoyed this chapter, but I wonder if you all will? Let's find out. Read on!**

"Geez, Scott'll believe anything I tell him the idiot." Gervais let out a laugh as he threw a bottle of beer over to the other side of the room.

Dalton caught it. "Thanks. You shouldn't be down on Scott too much; he is the most likely person – other than that mortician – to know what's going on."

"True, but just because I SAY you're arrested, doesn't mean you are. I mean, why would he trust me?"

"Because you found it in your good fortune to save us all from gruesome deaths? I don't know." Dalton shrugged as he took a sip of the refreshingly cold bottle. "To be honest, I wouldn't trust you with the keys to your own home."

"Nice to know what you think of me."

"I've never been one to hide my thoughts, y'know." Dalton smirked.

"You are one cold-blooded piece of work, you know that, right?"

"How so?"

"You've killed someone. Murdered. Ended a life. You're not even guilty at all?"

Dalton's smirk faded into a frown as his fist tightened. "Why would I feel guilty? That man killed my sister. That man deserved everything he got. Eye for an eye, and all that karma crap."

"Too true. I'd do the exact same thing if I were in your shoes." Gervais stood up and glanced out the window, seeing only the bare street.

"Stop doing that, will you." Dalton muttered. "You're looking even more suspicious than you need to be. At least Ryan leant us this apartment, so they can't really track us here for the moment."

"My bad. Just housing a murderer kind'a gets me on edge." Gervais turned around me a grin. "Nevertheless, it's kind of exciting."

"Until you get arrested." Dalton said bluntly.

"I'll be dead before I get arrested, too be quite honest." Gervais said; his grin widening. "Once Jovianne bites the dust, guess whose next? Me! I wonder if my death will be as elaborate as my vision... mind you, it sure _looked _painful having rebar sticking through my body. Not like you though, getting quite badly mulched by a mower."

Gervais took a drink of the beer as Dalton stared at him.

"What?" Gervais asked at Dalton's look.

"Even I'm a bit confused, Gervais." Dalton started, shaking his head. "You just... don't care, do you? Not even about yourself. You just don't give a damn."

"Nope."

"Why? Surely the fact death is on your doorstep must strike some kind of fear in you."

"Fear?" Gervais stood up straighter. "Ha! Why should I fear the inevitable? Everyone dies, Dalton. We can die anyplace at any time. People die all the goddamn time, even now, someone will snuff it. The world takes it own pace, and won't listen to the human race. It develops and manipulates us. We are tiny pieces of carbon compared to the whole wide universe!" Gervais spread his arms dramatically. "We are one planet in what could be an infinite amount of galaxies. We are ignorant of the depth of space. In the end, it means fuck all. Why should we try to make a life for ourselves, when in the end it adds up to nothing. N.O. Nothing!" Gervais let out a laugh. "I don't care about dying or living!"

Gervais suddenly tensed, his muscles going rigid.

"Gervais? What's wrong?" Dalton quickly got to his feet, eyebrows furrowed.

"Nothing! F'n nothing!"

"What..."

Gervais spun around and suddenly through the beer bottle against the wall, sending shards of glass all over the floor. "I didn't die! You see it in all the movies, the stories, on the internet, whenever people say anything to goad 'Death', they quickly die about a couple of seconds after." Gervais let out another laugh and spun around to face Dalton. "Yet look at me? I'm still alive right now. Death should've took his chance because I'M A PRIME TARGET!" Gervais roared at the top of his lungs, causing Dalton to take a step back. "Why does there have to be a list, eh? Why would 'Death' make himself a list? He doesn't need one, does he? Y'know why Dalton? You know why? HE DOESN'T EXIST!" Gervais leapt forward and grabbed Dalton's beer, before throwing it at the same spot as his own. "No one cares! Everyone gets into such a hissy since I said 'We should worship death!' I'd rather die than live in this stupid Earth. Come on Death, if you do exist, KILL ME!" Gervais kicked at the door, sending his foot through the weak wood. "Hahahaha! Haha! Ha!" Gervais spat on the floor and turned back to Dalton. "You see, Dalton? Death is only a psychological effect! He's not real? It's not like he's gonna stroll up the stairs, knock on the door, and give me the 'kiss of death!"

Gervais kicked the door open this time. "See! No one is there. People are stupid. Human beings are stupid. God's don't exist. Death doesn't exist. When our bodies end, that is that and I really could not give a fuck! 'Death' is a figment of imagination. People get worried over death, so they unconsciously put themselves in situations where they'll get killed. Why? Because they are stupid FUCKS!" Gervais let out another roar of laughter as he turned in the doorway. "I don't care. What happens? I don't die. Because I don't care if I live or die."

"Gervais..." Dalton muttered, feeling quite freaked out. The look in Gervais' eye was almost mad.

"Yeah, Dalton? What is it? Hmm? Are you worried that I'm going to die because I'm not giving Death the respect he deserves?" Gervais challenged. "Boo hoo to be honest. Jesus!" Gervias strode back in the room and past Dalton, before grabbing a knife. "See this Dalton? If anything, this is 'Death'. This knife will enter your heart, and 'bam!'. Dead as a f'n doorstop."

"Gervais. Calm down." Dalton said firmly, backing towards the door.

"What's wrong Dalton? Gettin' scared, huh! Getting scared of ol' death." Gervais laughed. "Deal with it!" With a sudden movement, Gervais threw the knife straight towards Dalton. Dalton acted quickly, diving to the side as the knife struck his cheek, ripping apart the flesh.

Dalton got to his knees, clutching his face in pain.

"What's wrong! Scared! BRILLIANT!" Gervais screamed, spittle flying from his mouth. "DEATH DOESN'T EXIST! WHY ARE YOU SO SCARED?" Gervais took a deep breath. "It is human nature. It is evolution. We die, there isn't anything after death. Dying is natural. We shouldn't care when or where we die, because in the end, it doesn't matter!"

"You're... you're crazy." Dalton said, standing up as blood dripped down his cheek. "You've lost your mind. I'm going."

"Lost my mind? You can't 'lose' a mind, Dalton! Look! It's still here!" Gervais tapped his forehead. "Unless I managed to rip out my brain, I still got my mind! I'm a healthy young man, Dalton! I ain't lost nothing!"

Dalton just stepped backwards. "I'm going. You've lost it."

"YOU'RE NOT GOING ANYWHERE!" Gervais roared, lunging forward and grabbing Dalton's collar. Using surprising strength, Gervais flung Dalton to the opposite side of the room. Dalton's head snapped back, hitting the wall with a thud. "Hey, I got an idea." Gervais looked towards the ceiling. "Death, if you exist, let me play a little game. Who can kill first? Me or you!"

Dalton groaned and clutched his head when Gervais ran at him, smashing his foot into Dalton's cheek. Dalton felt his jaw bone crack and a tooth flew from his mouth.

"Aww... first point to me." Gervais laughed, grabbing Dalton's shorter hair and pulling him to his feet. "Dalton, seriously. You're going to die, and you know why? You care, Dalton. You care about dying." Gervais suddenly shoved Dalton's head straight into the window with enough force to shatter it. Shards of glass cut into Dalton's face. Blood started to build, splattering against the floor. Gervais pulled Dalton backwards, and still holding Dalton's hair, ran towards the wall. He shoved Dalton face first into the wall where a resounding crack filled the air courtesy of Dalton's nose. Dalton slumped to the floor, letting off a stifled groan.

Gervais backed away, smoothing his hair back. Dalton's blood covered his fingers and now went into his hair. Gervais grabbed the knife he had thrown previously and stared at Dalton as the boy slowly got to his feet, his face a complete mess.

Once Dalton was completely to his feet, he stumbled forward, half out of his mind, towards Gervais. Gervais suddenly stepped forward and thrust the knife deep into Dalton's stomach, diagonally upwards so it went under the ribs. Dalton's eyes widened as blood spilt from his lips.

"Let me tell you something, Dalton." Gervais whispered in the ear of the young man. "We all have an incy wincy bit of death in all of us. You became Death when you killed Peter. Peter was Death when he killed your sister. I am Death because I. Killed. You!" Gervais twisted the knife around inside Dalton as more blood spilled from his mouth. "Say hello to your sister for me."

Gervais let go of the knife and stepped backwards. Dalton remained standing for a moment, before falling backwards. His eyes flitted towards Gervais, his mouth opening and closing. Exactly 47 seconds after being stabbed, Dalton DiLaurentis embraced Deaths cold arms.

Looking at his deceased friend, Gervais giggled. "Guess I was right, huh. You really don't exist, do you, Death? Ha... hahah... AHAHAHA!"

**(Yikes O.O. Hopefully, you'll all appreciate the appearance of a 'slightly unhinged' Gervais. Right, I also want to say I've put up a poll on my profile entitled as such: **

**Which theory about Death do you agree on in Final Destination – The Saviour:**

**William's theory of kill to live. (Burnt man, Dominique, and Samuel)**

**Scott's theory of solving the Egyptian Curse (Jovianne, Brandon, and Jessie) **

**Or, Gervais' theory that Death does not exist. (Kris) **

**Please vote, since I'll be very interested on what you lot like. I'll try and get a chapter in on Sunday, so tata for now! **


	30. Row your Boat

**(Thanks to A Mosaic Masterpiece, LocalTalent53, coolman123, zackt2010, and patts9009 for the reviews! Looks like Dalton was liked, but hey, that makes it all the more effective when I slaughter the liked people XD So, The votes are currently tied with the 'Psychological effect' and the 'Egyptian Curse'. No love for Williams theory, eh? Well, maybe your tune will take as I develop Williams past and of course his reasoning, what better way to start than the past? Read on!**

_Egypt, 1968, River Nile _

_Thick mist covered the surface of the River Nile, almost rolling like clouds. The sides of land could just be seen, but nothing much further. An eerie voice sounded through the mist, a young girls pre-pubescent voice. _

_ "Row Row Row your boat..." _

_ The voice was slow, giving the old nursery rhyme a frightening echo across the surface of the great river. _

_ "Gently down the stream... Merrily, merrily, merrily, merrily..." _

_ The sound of something going in water could be heard. _

_ "...life... is but... a dream..." _

_ The last note from the girl's voice ended just as a raft appeared from the mist. It was a simple raft, complete with sail although it had no cabin. It was merely constructed as a means to traverse down the river. Sitting at the helm was the origin of the singing voice, a young girl at ten years old, dipping her feet in the water of the Nile. _

_ Three other children sat on the raft along with the young girl. The oldest was a fifteen year old, with dark brown hair tied back into a ponytail. His skin was smooth chocolate, with dark eyes staring under the strands of hair. He was shuffling through cards with pursed lips_

_ The youngest was another girl, barely eight. Raven hair ran, finely combed, down her shoulders tied into braids with small pink bows. Wearing a simple white dress, the girl was quietly watching her older sister. _

_ Finally was a thirteen year old boy with short black hair, sitting with his back against one of the sides of the raft. He was reading a black leather-bound book, the only symbol on front being a pentagram. _

_ "Happy birthday Vera." The older brother said, looking up from his cards and placing a hand on the singing girls shoulder._

_ "Thank you James." Vera said with a surprisingly sounding mature voice from a twelve year old mouth. "I love how the mist is always like this on my birthday. Every year. From what father told me, it was always like this when I was born, as well." _

_ "I like mist." The smaller girl put in innocently._

_ "I know you do, Eliza, but it is unfortunate you are young. We are taking you on this trip so you know the ritual for every birthday after we reach ten." _

_ "Ritual?" Eliza questioned. _

_ "A right of passage, so to speak." James said lowly. "It gives us the strength to carry on. It gives us the protection from the Gods wrath. It happens on my birthday as well." _

_ "What about Will?" _

_ "Of course." James nodded. "Talking of which, Will, you've been awfully silent." _

_ Will didn't reply, to deep in his book. _

_ "Will? Hey, Will... Will..." _

"William? William, are you all right?"

William slowly blinked, getting his perspective. He was sitting in the front seat of his rolls Royce. Sitting shotgun was the burnt man, while Sam and Dominique were in the back.

"William?" Samuel continued.

"I am fine." William finally said, clearing the images of the Nile from his head.

"Will you tell us why we are in your car?"

"Before we start, I need to visit someone."

"Oh? Who?" The burnt man questioned.

"You will find out." With nothing else to say, William started the engine and left the driveway.

**XXX**

"I knew William was a freak. Never trust strangers, and that is a fundamental rule!" Jovianne fumed as she paced around the stone floor of her basement underneath her house. The basement used to house a bedroom from the previous owner, but had now turned into a 'den' of kinds. When the younger girls had sleepovers, or when Jovianne invited school friends over. The walls and door were so thick that hardly any noise made it through.

Two Couches were line against the back wall with a 42" TV set up in front of them. Four speakers were in each corner of the room, allowing for surround sound. On the far right side were a set of bunk beds for the sleepovers.

It was on one of the bunk beds Brandon was sitting, hunched over while deep in thought. Jessie was sitting on the edge of one of the couches while Scott was sat against a wall, watching Jovianne.

"I don't believe he wants us to kill! Murder? Unbelievable!"

"Calm down, Jovianne, please." Scott spoke up, looking at the teenager.

Jovianne let out a deep sigh. "I know... I'm sorry. It's just... cancer victims? I-I'm a cancer victim... I was, at the very least. I thought... it would end. I didn't want to die! I wanted to live and William is... is..."

"It's all right. It's fine. Just don't think about William." Scott suggested. "I know it's hard, but we need to figure out the next step."

"We could just go straight into it, right?" Brandon spoke up. "I mean, get a plane down to Egypt, and start there."

"Unfortunately we can't do that. We don't have enough money for one ticket, let alone four. No, that wouldn't work." Scott said.

"Then a museum, surely?" Jessie said. "I don't know, maybe we could ask the curator about this Archer. Go to all the museums around New York and see what we get."

"That would probably be the best course of action." Scott said. "although I'm weary on how much time that would take. After all, Jovianne, you are next on the list."

Jovianne winced as if struck, shivers running down her spine. "I know. But... but even if I g-go, I'd rather we found a solution, or at least the start of one. If I have to... t-to go to save many more, I co-could do it."

"Don't speak like that." Brandon spoke sharply. "We are not dying, none of us are. We aren't just victims in a horror movie. We're not stupid teenagers at Crystal Lake or Elm Street. We are intelligent, and we know what we're up against. This curse can be stopped, and us four, we're the ones to do it. We have enough reaction time to save ourselves from death." Brandon now stood up, getting into the moment. "Besides, it's just a matter of saving Jovianne. After her it's Gervais, and then you Scott. So we have time after avoiding Jovianne's death. Jessie, you're near the end of the list, and I'm not even on it!"

"What do you mean?" Scott suddenly asked. "Of course you're on it."

"I was, but I've figured it out... I was accidently the cause of Lewis' death! I accidently pushed him, and the fan fell on him. Technically I pushed him into his own death."

"But Lewis was an old man." Scott opposed. "He didn't have much time left. You could die at any moment, even WITH his life."

"He said it himself, and I quote: 'At this rate, I'll have five years left'. That more than enough time to solve the riddle, the curse, and more than enough time to ensure that all four of us will live happy lives! Jessie, you won't have to follow your brothers footsteps. Jovianne, you can stay with your sisters and father, who love you! Scott, you can keep your promise to your mother! We will all survive, I am telling you this right now. In fact, I promise it!"

"Optimism is sometimes a foolish, ignorant thing." Scott murmured, before looking to Brandon. "Nevertheless, a bit of confidence is all we need right now. We'll head to each museum, one by one until we find our answers."

**XXX**

"Row...row, row your boat... gently down the stream. Merrily, merrily, merrily, merrily, life is... such a dream..."

A woman stared out of a window in a wheelchair, worn eyes staring at nothing in peculiar.

"Will... will you keep coming...?"


	31. Family Visit

**(Thanks to angie2282 (X2) Toufuu Logan, LocalTalent53, Zack2010, coolman123, Cenobia100, jamesss, A Mosaic Masterpiece, and finally Patts9009... phew... popular chapter, huh? Anybody looking forward to some William backstory? I know I am... read on!) **

"Are you actually going to tell us who you're visiting, or not?" Samuel questioned, leaning forward in his seat. "You can't just keep us in the dark!"

"William, every second we waste it gives us all the more time in which to die." The burnt man said carefully. "Not that I care, but that IS your goal, is it not?"

"This is important and it isn't wasting time." William said slowly. "Besides, we are here." William pulled to a stop only ten minutes after leaving.

Looking up, Samuel saw that the building was a retirement home. Dark orange bricks surrounded the outside with large windows and slight balconies. A shadow of a figure stared out from one of the windows.

"Why are we here?" Samuel asked, but was ignored by William, who had already gone out of the car and was striding towards the double doors. Samuel exchanged a glance with the burnt man, before quickly getting out and following the mortician.

"Stay here Dominique." Samuel whispered, stroking back Dominique's hair before leaving her in the car.

Dominique didn't react, merely stared blankly as the group of three disappeared into the retirement home.

**XXX**

The woman had black skin, which was drooping around the cheeks from age. Fuzzy white hair was haphazardly put into a ponytail which rested against her back. She was sitting in a wheelchair, hands on lap and staring at the window. Her eyes followed the black Rolls Royce as it came to a stop.

Her old, worn eyes widened somewhat as she watched William get out of the car and stride towards the entrance of the Home. A few seconds later two other strangers followed.

"You came..." the woman whispered. "Will... you came again... you are such a lovely person..."

**XXX**

The old woman wasn't the only one watching the Rolls Royce, hidden from sight. Across the Home in a dark alleyway, a faint drizzle keeping his hair plastered to his head, Kris watched the Rolls Royce pull up.

"Bludworth..." He muttered with fury, black-ringed eyes staring. "You... this is it... you won't leave..."

Letting of a small laugh, Kris looked down to his hand, where a small pistol was held. He raised his to his face and laughed humourlessly again. "You will feel the pain to all those others... not only Zoe, but you are the cause of all the others! I know it!"

"You are right of course, _sir_."

Kris stiffened, panic running through his head at the thought of a police officer, but turning around he saw Gervais leaning against the wall.

"G-Gervais? What are you doing here?"

"I wanted to watch the show." Gervais said, grinning. "See how much damage Death can do."

"Death? Death is not real!" Kris growled, stepping towards Gervais. "It is all a farce, don't you see? William is the conductor behind the scenes! He is the cause of it all! I know it!"

"No, no, no, you misunderstand me. I do not mean William. I mean you."

"Me? Are you kidding?" Kris' eyes widened. "How dare you accuse me of-"

"It isn't a bad thing." Gervais said, standing straight and moving towards Kris. "You see, Death is a name, only that. Like a King, or the President. A title. I was Death. Now, it is your turn to be Death. You want to kill William Bludworth, and I admire you for that. Kill him; do the whole world a favour. Take on the mantle of Death and show William just what it means to be a victim."

"You... why would you accept that? You just-"

"Shh." Gervais put a finger on his lips. "I want William dead. Heck, I want all of them dead the ignorant fools. The fact of the matter is, you and I are of a rare breed. We do not believe in Death, or 'curses', or anything else. We are the true chosen ones. We were bred to prove the substantial world, don't you see? We have to show the world that it is all a mistake, that every death is a direct result of illness, or of a human."

Kris looked to the floor, his eyes not registering it. Finally, he looked back up to Gervais. "You are right, of course... it is all a mistake, and they are mistakes... I'll kill William for Zoe, but I'll... I'll kill the Believers!" With that, Kris walked out of the alley, placing the pistol in his jacket.

"Of course you will..." Gervais muttered. "You fuckin' idiot. Feed you the lies and you gobble them up. Although it will be interesting to see you attempt to kill William..." with that, Gervais backed further into the darkness of the alleyway with a grin on his face.

**XXX**

The old woman turned her head ever so slightly so she could look at the door, which let out a click as it was opened. A smile formed across the woman's face as William ducked in, before standing up straight. The old woman caught a glimpse of the other people, before William shut the door behind him, closing them from view.

"Will..." The old woman whispered with worn happiness. "You came."

"I always come, Vera."

"You do?" Vera sighed, wheeling further around so she was straight facing William. "I forget... funny, how the only thing I constantly remember is that today is my birthday, and the so called 'ritual'."

"That is the unfortunate result of old age."

Vera let out a soft laugh. "...and yet, I'm still a year younger than you, brother, and you still retain all your wits."

William didn't reply, merely pulled up a wooden chair and sat in front of his sister. He placed one large hand over her lap, allowing her to grasp it with both of hers.

"Will you sing with me?" Vera murmured, looking into William's eyes.

"Of course." William said, before letting out a genuine smile than only his family had ever seen. It brightened his face and made him look years younger. Then, he started to sing the song that the Bludworth's sang on every birthday, despite being a nursery rhyme. "Row, Row, Row... Your boat..." William's voice was surprisingly clear and harmonious; bring a gleam to Vera's eye, who joined in.

"...Gently down the stream. Merely... merely... merely... merely... Life is but a dream..."

Silence reigned as the two voices quietened down. It was a few minutes before Vera spoke again. "It makes me so happy to hear it. Children consider it a nursery rhyme, but to me, it is my life."

"Our life." William corrected.

"...I miss Egypt, William. Why couldn't we stay? Why did we have to leave?"

"You know why, Vera. It wasn't safe. We had to leave before it was too late."

"You were scared!" Vera suddenly exclaimed, causing William to sigh again.

"Please do not start this again, sister..."

"You were scared, and you ran away!" Vera reached out and grabbed William's forearm with a vice-like grip. "You discovered the curse and it affected us all! McKinley's and Bludworth's died that day, William! All of those days!"

"Do not speak of it, Vera, please. I do not wish to be reminded."

"Why not?" Vera asked, her eyes glazing over. "I don't see why... only we three survived the list, didn't we? Me, you... Lewis McKinley... we were the only ones! James... Eliza... Lewis' wife... his brothers and sisters..."

"Vera, calm down. You will get ill if you keep speaking."

"You..." Vera bit her lip, before suddenly reaching up and grabbing Williams tie. "You caused it all! You! You didn't save James, didn't save anyone you selfish person! Then... then... you made us kill... you made us murderers..."

"Nobody knows."

"That is not the point!" Vera cried, tears running down her face. "I don't see why you didn't follow on the Archer lead. I don't see why you didn't listen to Lewis! Now he is alone, not even visited by family! You should visit him, Will..."

"Lewis is dead, Vera." William said bluntly.

Vera withdrew breath sharply, her eyes widening. "No... no, no it cannot be... he... he still has five years... we have five years..."

William didn't reply, merely watched his sister's eyes and they flitted about, confused.

"Why... Lewis... he... dead? McKinley... gone... he is... gone?" Vera's head suddenly snapped to William's eyes. "THIS IS ALL YOUR FAULT!" she screamed, causing William to step backwards in slight shock. The tears were still flowing, staining her gown. "Why couldn't Bludworth and McKinley work together? Why... why couldn't we figure out the way? Why did we split! James followed you, William, to you theory of 'killing to live', while Lewis tried to go to his roots with Archer. Splitting is the worst situation you could have done, and now he's dead and we're alive, but we're going to die and... and..."

"Vera, calm down." William said firmly, placing a hand on his sister's shoulder. "We-" William suddenly stopped, his pupils widening until almost all of his eyes were black. William stumbled backwards until his back hit the door with a thud.

_**XXX**_

_ "I don't believe this..." Lewis McKinley shook his head in despair. "William, I can't believe you'd say something like that!" _

_ "What's wrong?" A young William Bludworth questioned, staring accusingly at Lewis. "Surely you'd want to preserve your own life? Surely you want to live?" _

_ "And kill innocent people?" Lewis' wife, Barbara, snapped. _

_ "We're innocent too!" _

_ "...and that makes it all better?" Lewis rolled his eyes. "William, you know as well as I do that Archer is the key to it all. Just... just because the curse doesn't want us investigating doesn't mean we aren't going to. If we can solve what our ancestors did-" _

_ "You won't!" William exclaimed. "That thinking will get you nowhere at all. You think Death is just going to _let_ you? You'll be sending yourself, your wife," William pointed to two other people, Lewis' brother and sister. ", your siblings to death!" _

_ "I would rather take a chance of being innocent than being a murderer." Lewis growled, before turning to the three other Bludworth's. "Eliza, Vera, James you cannot agree with this!" _

_ James looked conflicted, gulping as he looked around. "It's... a hard choice to make..." _

_ "James, you are my brother, surely you agree with me." _

_ "No, think about us being _humans_, James. Not murderers!" _

_ James reached up and grabbed William's shoulder. "As the oldest in the family, I have to make the decisions for those who are under eighteen. I cannot speak for you, as you are eighteen, but Eliza... Vera... go with the McKinley's." _

_ "James!" Vera protested._

_ "Now!" James said quickly. "I don't want to, but it's safer." _

_ With a sigh, Vera dragged Eliza to the waiting McKinley's. _

_ "William," James kept a tight hold on William's shoulder. "I'm coming with you. If I can, I will persuade you out of your foolish notions."_

**(Aah, good old William. So, the next chapters (maybe two) will be based in flashback will William and James. Yup, we'll finally find out Williams reasoning and motive. 'Till next time!) **


	32. Bludworth

**(Thanks to A Mosaic Masterpiece, jamesss, Cenobia100, coolman123, and LocalTalent53 for the reviews! Here's how the orders going to go: This Chapter will be based on Bludworth side, next chapter will be McKinley side, then the last chapter will be the conclusion of the flashback. I have to say, I'm enjoying furrowing into the past of the Bludworth-McKinley relationship. Will William win over some supporters over the coming chapters? Online time will tell...**

**Sorry bout the slightly shorter chapter.) **

William was silent as he strode down the side of the river Nile. His hands were in his pockets as he scuffed his shoes across the dirt.

"You are such a drama queen." James rolled his eyes at his younger brother. "We're adults here, so let's act as such. Don't just ignore me."

William did just that, kicking a small rock into the river.

"Really?" James raised an eyebrow. "If you want to act like kids..." James suddenly lunged forward and grabbed William into a neck-lock, before rubbing his knuckles over William's head. William quickly pulled back, glaring daggers at James. James just gave a small grin.

As hard as he tried, William found he was unable to resist and broke out into a smile as well. He laughed quietly, before looked back up to James. "Why did you follow me?"

"To make sure you are not going to do anything stupid."

"I believe 'murdering' someone counts as stupid." William said, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a piece of paper. Almost immediately, James snatched it out of his hands and ripped it in two.

"Stop looking at that!" James exclaimed, throwing the paper into the water where it soaked through. "You got to stop thinking about that list. The fact of the matter is, we are going to find solutions. None of us will die! We will solve this."

"There you go again. I'm not sure whether your optimism is brave or stupid."

"A little bit of both, I'd wager." James replied, before suddenly coming to a stop.

"What is it?" William raised an eyebrow and followed James' gaze.

They came to rest on an old, wooden boat, or at least, what was once a boat. Wooden planks dug into the sand, and a giant rift struck through the wood, causing the entire front to disappear. James recoiled as if struck, placing a hand to his mouth, feeling sick.

William closed his eyes for a few seconds, before walking towards it. "Ah... our childhood boat." William leaned down and grabbed something. It was a drenched, thick leather-bound book. The same one he was reading all that time ago. "Brings back memories."

"Bad ones." James gulped, shaking his head in pain.

"Fortunately, I never saw the vision you saw, James. I still cannot grasp how it must have felt, believing it was real, believing we were all dying before realising it was a vision."

James nodded slowly. "I'm glad. Only one Bludworth needs to experience such horror... That McKinley Plane, crashing straight into our boat – On Eliza's birthday no less. Then seeing you were still alive, suffering, calling for help... slowly dying, one by one, eyes pleading at me to save you..." James shivered, but stopped as William placed a hand on his shoulder.

"Calm down, James. That wasn't real, remember." William reassured. "We're still alive. We've avoided death. We know of the list, and because of that we can constantly save each other. We have been for _years _now. If we want to permanently stop it, on the other hand, we have to do what you _know _we have to do."

"I'll put it to you bluntly, Will." James said, calming down from seeing the boat. "Whatever decision you wish to make... whether joining Lewis and the others on solving the curse, or... killing to gain life. I'll follow you."

William squinted suspiciously. "Why?"

"You're my baby brother. Plus, you're an idiot. Eliza and Vera, they're sensible. You're the kind of guy who gets caught trying to summon a demon complete with candles and the pentagram."

"Back then I was a fool. Not now." William frowned. "The occult in that sense isn't real. Demons, Gods and Death. They aren't real."

"Oh? So what is this 'divine force' going around and killing us?"

"I cannot say." William muttered. "However, I refuse to believe it is the Devil, or Death. If anything, we are Death."

"Excuse me?" James looked at his brother, confused. "I think I just misheard you. We are Death?"

"We each control the fate of the other. We didn't have to save each other. Yet we did, controlling out fates. Murderers kill others for whatever reason. Death isn't controlling them, is he? That is of the murderers own volition. That is one of the reasons I want to test this theory, this kill for life. If I kill someone, and then attempt to kill myself, then that will solve it. If I die from my own hand, then Death as an entity isn't real. If no matter how hard I try I cannot kill myself until the allotted time, then Death is real."

"So basically... what you're saying, is that this is a _test_? To see if Death is real or not?"

"Yes."

"You're willing to put someone's life, someone with people who love them, at risk just like that?"

"Some things need to be done."

James stared at William, before sighing. "You are such a fool, Will. Such a goddamn fool. If you want to prove this 'theory' for yourself, don't hunt down some innocent person. Don't put yourself in harm's way."

"Then what do you suggest? Go and kill myself trying to solve a non-existent curse?"

"What I suggest?" James grabbed William's wrist and squeezed tightly. "Kill me instead."


	33. McKinley

**(Thanks to jamesss and LocalTalent53 for the reviews. I had to make a final decision on whether or not I was going to go ahead with a certain decision within the story (Regarding the actuality of the 'curse'), and I've finally got it. While you won't get all the answers, you'll perhaps get some. I only hpe this will work XD Read on! **

Lewis McKinley was born into a family of aircraft enthusiasts. His father had been a pilot in World War II, and his father before him was a pilot in World War I. They were also named Lewis, a tradition which had started through the McKinley family a good century again. His mother, named Rosa, was a mechanic – which was where she had met Lewis Senior. Oddly enough, Lewis' grandmother was Elena, also a mechanic and also where she had met Lewis' grandfather.

It went without saying that Lewis was an aircraft enthusiast himself. He had spent practically all his money to buy his own plane, something he adored and claimed he would 'die for'.

Both of Lewis' siblings knew this was a very dangerous move. Helena and Isaac were well aware of the 'McKinley curse'. The curse was once a rumour, a fantasy, a story to tell to the kids. Now, it was reality. It was no coincidence that anything with the name 'McKinley' on it, owned by a McKinley, or even those who held the family name either died or were injured in deadly accidents. Machines broke, boats sunk, cars stopped.

However, the McKinley's were a tough family, and had always kept themselves up and thriving. At least long enough to house an heir. One of the things Lewis had done to solve the financial situation was marry Barbara, who while rich, was also beautiful and had a great personality. It wasn't long before she was pregnant with a child – which if a boy they planned to name Phillip. As a holiday, Lewis had took his private plane and had flew his brother, sister and wife to Egypt.

Then everything went bad. During the flight, a freak storm hit, sending rain and wind towards the small, vulnerable plane. Lewis was forced to go for an emergency landing, but lost control. They went crashing straight into another boat across the Nile, smashing the front off. They thought they were going to drown, until a family of dark skinned people saved them. With few injuries, and the promise that the baby was safe, the Bludworth's met the McKinley's.

They found the Bludworth's unique and interesting, and with their lives saved, Lewis offered the Bludworth's a meal at the hotel he was planning on staying at. Then the first accident happened.

A stone block – almost as big as him – plummeted from the top of one of the buildings. Elena was almost crushed, but at the last moment James Bludworth had saved her. He had described that he saw a vision. It took another accident – the smallest Bludworth, Eliza – for James to realise that they were dying in the order that he saw.

From then, they had avoided Death, with the McKinley's thoroughly persuaded that the Curse had come for them. They told the Bludworth's – who they came to trust over the week – about it. Only William scoffed.

Another few weeks of dodging death, and now Lewis was standing, watching James and William walk away with the foolish and murderous notion that killing someone was the solution.

"I don't know whether to feel angry or sad." Lewis sighed, rubbing his knuckles across his forehead.

"It's pathetic." Barbara whispered while stroking her belly. "I don't see why he doesn't just come with us."

"William is very stubborn." Vera said with a soft smile. "Not much can persuade him to differ from his choice. Although, if anyone can, it'll be James."

"I hope he does before they make a mistake." Isaac sniffed. "I don't want William to become a murderer."

"Nor do I..." Eliza muttered, biting her lip.

"Let's not mope around." Elena said, stroking the back of her neck. "Whatever they do is their own damn fault. Let's get this over with, since we know where the tomb is."

"We're going in a tomb?" Eliza shivered.

"It's where we believe our ancestor, Archer, first got the curse. At least, that's as far as we tracked it, so... well, I don't know. Perhaps we'll find the answer, perhaps we won't."

"I prefer definitive answers." Vera said. "Nevertheless, at least it is a lead. Is this tomb public?"

"Nope." Helena said with a smile on her lips. "It's not like it's heavily guarded though. Wait 'till night, and we stride straight on in."

"You McKinley's do like your adventures, don't you?" Eliza said with a smile to match Helena's.

"It's what we were made for."Lewis said. "Right, I know a really good place to stay until the right time. Follow me."

**XXX **

The time to leave came all too soon for Vera. She had no idea where James and William were, or even what they were doing. She was increasingly nervous of William doing something stupid, and hoped that James would do everything in his power to succeed.

Each of the McKinley's was silent, while Vera silently comforted Eliza who was shivering from the cold, her small face flushed.

Finally, after a good twenty minute walk, Lewis came to a stop. "We're here."

If Vera was expecting something grand, she was severely disappointed. The tomb's entrance was simply a wooden door, rotted and broken. It slightly hung off a hinge, creating an eerie creaking sound.

"This just makes me all the more want to get out of here." Vera shivered, before turning to Barbara. "Are you sure you want to come?"

"Of course." Barbara replied, hugging onto Lewis' arm. "I'm not going to abandon my husband." She smiled warmly at Lewis, receiving the same.

"I'll go first... shall I?" Vera took a deep breath, before opening the door and heading inside the tomb.

Straight away, she almost tripped head over heels at an unexpected staircase. Keeping hold to the side of the walls, Vera took a deep breath, before continued down.

It wasn't too long until dust started to make her want to cough, while the darkness pressed on her at all sights. Her leg suddenly jammed as the stairs ended, sending a jolt through her body. For a brief moment, panic gripped her that the McKinley's had run away to leave her to die when a torch light flashed on and Lewis offered his hand. Vera thanked him and pulled herself up.

"Gloomy place, huh." Helena took the tomb in with beady eyes.

"Shh. Let's just get this over with." Isaac said to his sister, before taking the lead, heading through a stone corridor which had a slight incline. It didn't take long for the group to appear in a large, empty room. Well, empty apart from the stone box straight in the middle of the room.

"The coffin..." Helena muttered, stepping forward eagerly. "Isaac, help me."

Together, brother and sister grabbed the stone lid and pushed, letting off restrained groans. With a large amount of effort, the lid finally pushed off, hitting the ground with a thud. Lewis was the first to step forward and peer into the coffin.

Inside, was a mummified corpse, skin drawn tight over the skin. It was mottled and grey, with empty eye sockets sending shivers through the spines of the others. Lewis felt disappointed about their only being a body, when he spotted something in the corpses hand. Lewis grabbed the object, putting it in the torch light.

"What is it?"Barbara asked.

"A letter... or at least something written. It's Latin, so I can't read it."

"Latin? Give that here." Helena grabbed the paper off of Lewis and scanned it over. Her eyes widened after she was finished.

"What is it?"

"A message." Helena said gravely. "A message from Archer himself."

"What does it say?" Barbara whispered.

"As best as I can translate..." Helena cleared her throat. "_It has been much trouble to find this so called legend, this rumour, this tomb. I have lost a great many man through accidents or worse. Amidst corruption and madness, I have found myself finally at the tomb of the man I have been seeking. I had been looking for answers behind the death of my family. My father, and his father before him. More specifically, to those who bear the name of 'McKinley'. I have found the truth... and what a horrid truth it is."_ Helena stopped then. "The writing suddenly gets more scribbled, as if he was in a hurry. _I can hear something, shuffling. Footsteps. I will record this as quickly as I possibly can. We are being hunted. It isn't accidents as they would so like you to believe, no, it is those who bear the name –" _

A sudden loud, echoing _pop_ filled the air as the side of Helena's neck erupted in a torrent of blood. A faint gasp left her lips before she crumpled to the floor. It was a full three seconds before anyone reacted, but by that time it was too late.

From the entrance of the tomb men had run in, and had grabbed each person roughly, keeping them restrained.

"Helena!" Isaac found his voice first, struggling against his bonds. Seeing his sister gave him energy, and he quickly butted his head, connecting with flesh behind him. Isaac pulled forward and sprinted towards his sister, but another _pop_ and a blood stain appeared over his heart. Falling to the floor next to his sister, Isaac lay still.

Lewis was too shocked to talk, much like his wife. Eliza was confused and unable to speak. The only person in a fair amount of sense was Vera, who looked to the source of the noise to see a tall, dark man holding a pistol in his hand, which had recently dispensed two shots.

"My, my, my." The man said in a deep voice. "Cannot be too careful, lest the truth comes out..."

That voice pierced Vera to the very core, since she knew exactly who it belonged to and sent tears to her eyes as she felt the floor rush up to meet her.


	34. The Truth

**(Thanks to Zackt2010, Patts9009, jamesss, and LocalTalent53. All right, the chapter you've all been waiting for. I finally reveal the key factor to 'Death'. So, who is right? Is it Gervais, in that it's a physcological effect? William in believing in killing to live? Or what all of you voted for the most, that the Egyptian Curse is a reality? You'll find out.)**

"Come on, William, if you don't kill me then you are going to kill someone who doesn't deserve it!" James warned as the sky grew dark and cold starting to seep into their skin.

"Why do you deserve it? No, James, I am not killing my own brother."

"Then don't kill anyone."

"I need to!"

"Need to? How could you _need _to?"

"I need to find out if what I believe is what actually takes place."

"As I keep on saying, do it on me!"

", and as I keep on saying, no!" William sighed, frustrated. "Why is it you are so stubbornly determined James? Do you hope to keep annoying me until I submit? Do you WANT death?"

James frowned. "Of course not. I just want to make my little brother happy."

"You are willingly abandoning Eliza and Vera JUST to make me happy?" William shook his head in disgust.

"Willingly? Of course not." James grabbed William's shoulder. "Yet torches need to be passed. I was the man of the family, caring for you three after Dad left. Now you are old enough to care for Eliza and Vera, underage as they are. You don't need me, you want to find out the solution, and I am here for you to prove that point. So please, don't hesitate. I am offering this to you, so do it!"

"Do you seek to make me suffer of eternal guilt for killing my brother?" William laughed. "Don't be an idiot."

"So, you won't feel guilt at killing someone completely innocent, though?" James licked his lips. "You really are a fool and an idiot. I dare say even a heartless monster."

"Now you are starting to sound like dad." William looked disgusted. "Eliza and Vera may not be old enough to remember, but I know his taunts, his bullying. He hit you James and you just hid away. I would've killed HIM had he not disappeared. Stop trying to live up and be someone you are not."

"The thing is, the thing that you, Vera and Eliza never believed in, was that Dad was a smart, brave man. His only downfall was his own pride. Why would I not want to be as smart as him? Or as brave? I do not suffer from Pride, William, so I will not take the same path as him." James was getting frustrated, running a hand over his face. His eyes shone with wetness, surprising William. "You see... if you are not going to kill me, then you have no right to kill anyone else. If you need to gain life, do it from me, I am most deserving."

"You don't deserve to die, James, don't say that."

"Oh, but I do." James leaned against a wall. "William, let me tell you two secrets. Both will change you to the point that you will never be who you once were. Sit."

"I can stan-"

"Sit!" James snapped, pushing William down by the shoulder on a low wall. They were behind in a desert area, surrounded by the stone walls. James looked at William, who opened his mouth, surprised. Tears were running down James' face. The first time William could remember seeing them. "I want you... to realise why I deserve this, more so than anyone else."

James licked his lips, before clenching his hands. "The first... is that dad's death... it was a lie. He's still living. He'll keep on living for a while yet. Don't say anything."

Even if William wanted to, he couldn't.

"Dad... came to me the day before he 'died', as I was the oldest. He told me that he was going into hiding... that he was... recruited. Recruited by who or what, I did not know. Then, he made me swear to mother's life and he disappeared, just like that. I had to feed you three that he was dead, since that was the easiest way."

William's face grew stony, as he tried to think why his father would work for anyone other than himself.

"The other secret... Well, that is that I was contacted by those people who recruited father. They told me what they were about, and what they were doing, and why they were doing it. Then... they told me to pretend I had a vision. A vision that a plane would crash into our boat. I had to act like I saw this, I had to save you and the McKinley's. I had to make friends with them. Then I had to kill them."

William's eyes widened to the point they were almost bursting.

"Do you know who these people were? They were a group of three men and one woman. One of course was our father. Then the others... were his older brothers and sister. For hundreds upon hundreds of years, Bludworth's have made it a pastime to murder McKinley's. Make it seem as if they were accidents. Perhaps kill unrelated people too, keep up the pretence. From a feud stemming from the unknowns, the McKinley's are featured in us Bludworth's bloodlust and rage. You know what, William..." James looked up through blurry eyes. "The most disgusting thing is that we don't wipe them out completely. We always leave a baby... a child. Perhaps a mother. We let the McKinley's continue to live! We... we 'breed' them, per say. It's disgusting, horrible, but nevertheless I still did it! I contacted father... by now, Eliza and Vera are captured as are Philip and Barbara. The other two will be dead. All because of me – and I hate myself for it. Do you see why I deserve to die, William? It isn't the McKinley's which should be killed, it is the Bludworth's! We are scu-"

"Shut up..." William whispered. "You don't mean it... you're lying..."

"Don't do this to yourself, William. It is the truth."

"You are lying!"

"I AM NOT!" James flung himself forward and slammed a fist into William's cheek, knocking him from the wall. "Will you see! Will you understand!" James kicked his brother in the stomach as James' tears fell to the floor. "Bludworth's will always kill McKinley's... always! Unless you do something about it! Eliza... Vera... they'll be manipulated into doing it too. It is only a matter of time William! Dad told me already, that they were going to KILL Eliza to get to Vera! SO KILL ME!"

James breath caught in his throat as William snapped to his feet and in one quick motion slammed in James, extending his arms over his back. It could have been seen as a hug, had it not been for the knife driven through the back of James' ribs.

"I..." William whispered hoarsely. "Always keep a knife on me... for when I decide who to kill... I never thought in a million years it would be my brother."

"...and I never thought it would be my brother to end my life." James smiled, blood dripping slowly from his mouth. "I... hope you try to understand... but... it is impossible."

"No. I will remember. I will slaughter our father and his relations. If Vera cannot be saved... then so be it."

"But you won't... remember." James coughed, blood hitting William's neck as he leaned his head on William's should. James voice was now quiet and weak, barely a whisper. "Our father is on... his way now... the one thing we Bludworth's... specialize in... is... is the mind... hypnotism. Make people see visions... make people see things they want them to see... you will be captured...this will all be an accident to you... you, Vera, Phillip and Barbra will live thinking you survived... because you were smart... you weren't..." James shuddered, his skin pale and clammy. "You won't be smart at all... but William... long after I'm gone... after Phillip is gone... after Barbara is gone having given birth... you will remember. You will remember this moment, and you will realise what you have to do. End this... obscene family feud William..." James let out a throaty cough. "Now... it's my turn... to go gently down the... stream..." With a final shudder, a groan, and a cough, James Bludworth died in his brother's embrace.

**XXX**

William stumbled forward, feeling a great pressure on his chest. Blinking away surprising tears, he looked up and realised that he was in the hospital room, Vera looking worriedly at him. Her face worn, the lustre long gone.

"William, are you okay...?" Vera stepped forward and placed a hesitant hand on William's face, wiping away tears. "What's wrong...?"

It took William so long to answer. The memories had hit him hard. He had murdered James out of anger, not an accident as he had thought... everything he thought was true was wrenched out of his hands. Then a sudden bout of grief hit him. All these years he had believed in death, and sent many innocent people to their deaths. People who had been manipulated, just like him. William saw the faces of those seeking his advice, faces that had been... hypnotised by... who?

Yet, William knew who. The only possible solution was that his father was still alive. Old, weary, but still alive.

"Will..." Vera repeated, looking scared.

"He's alive..." William said slowly, trying to regain his composure.

"Who is...?"

"None other than our dear father. He lied to us all... manipulated us..." William shook his head in disbelief. "I can't believe that the Bludworth's-" William's words were cut off as the door slammed open. He whipped around to stare down the barrel of a pistol, belong to one Kris Thomas. William quickly looked out to the corridor, but the bandaged man and Samuel were nowhere to be seen.

"What's with the look, _murderer." _ Kris snarled. "I hope you meet all those you have killed in hell!"

**(I've done a lot of research in hypnotism, and it is very possible what James said. Well, you just got to look at Derren Brown, really. **

**I believe that I only got one more major twist in this story – storyline wise. Oh, and you'll be saying 'sayonara' to one character next chapter. Death scene for the win! **

**See you then! **


	35. Accusations & Rage

**(Thanks to Cenobia100, LocalTalent53, Zackt2010, jamess, and A Mosaic Masterpiece. A-Levels suck, just call it an extended cliffhanger... yeah. But I'm back, and shouldn't have any more big breaks like that... hopefully... well, last we heard from, Kris just invaded William. And of course, we have our promised death.)**

"Kris..." William started, but Kris waved the gun in the air, eyes wild.

"No! You don't say a word! At all! I will be doing the talking!" Kris' eyes bulged as he tried to control his anger, but now he was face to face with the cause of it all, Kris' mind couldn't handle it.

The conversation with Gervais had only proved to persuade him on his choice. What he said was true. William may have been the person behind the scenes, but he wasn't Death. No, he was Death and Kris revelled in the revelation. He held a life in his hands, he was the commander and he would decide just who lives and who dies.

"You don't talk either or I'll kill you!" Kris snapped as Vera opened her mouth, looking extremely worried.

"Don't threaten my sister!" William growled.

"Don't talk!" Kris shouted, spittle flying from his mouth. "You thought you could hide it, eh." Kris smirked, walking back and forth. "You thought you could fool everyone? You may have fooled the kids, but not me! I know the truth and I know just who you are, William Bludworth."

William winced. There was no way Kris could know, could he?"

"You are a murderer! It wasn't just Zoe, oh no, but my suspicions were aroused. It's the only reason which makes sense! You are the only connection between everyone, no doubt. You are a homicidal killer, William, intent on destroying the lives of oh so many people!"

"You are a fool, a-"

"SHUT UP!" Kris roared, stepping forward and slamming the barrel of the pistol in the middle of William's chest, over his heart. "I told you not to talk!" Kris took a deep breath, his face twisted. "So I decided... I decided to take on the mantle of 'Death' and rid the world of a kil-" Kris was interrupted as William suddenly swatted the pistol out of Kris' hands, before pushing him boldly backwards. Kris hit the door and bounced off to be grabbed around the throat. William squeezed hard, pushing Kris against the wall and lifted him up.

"You are an ignorant child, Kris Thomas. You know nothing about that which you talk about. You merely assume and come up with false conclusions!" William said lowly, threatingly. "If you kill me, then what? The killings will continue, of this there no doubt. You will have blood on your hands for the complete wrong reason. Kris, can you live with that?"

Kris didn't reply, merely kicked William in the stomach with a swift foot. William grunted, his age coming to him. William backed away and Kris charged at him, knocking the bigger man down. Kris started raining fists down on William's face, but didn't get far as William pushed Kris off again. Kris stumbled back, but grabbed a potted plant that was on one of the table and cracked it against the side of William's face.

Shards of pottery cut into William's face, blood sliding quickly down his neck. William stayed up though, a crazed look in his eye.

"Will!" Vera cried, unable to help. "Don't get mad, please!"

"I cannot guarantee that, sister." William reached down and grabbed the small bedside table, throwing it at Kris. Kris ducked out of the way and leaped towards his pistol. Before he could reach the firearm, William stomped hard on his fingers, breaking them with ease. Kris cried out in pain, but William continued to grind down on his hand caused Kris to cry out in even more pain.

"William!" Vera reached out and grabbed William's arm, attempting to calm her brother down. William took a deep breath, and lifted his foot off of Kris' hand. This proved to be a mistake as Kris hooked William's leg with his arm, twisting and throwing William to the ground. Kris leaped forward and grabbed the pistol.

William reached forward, grabbing Kris' collar and pulling him back hard. Kris was thrown back first into the wall again, but raised his hand and fired the pistol. His shot was wide, and William took the chance to throw a punch into Kris' stomach. Kris gasped but fired the pistol again. This time it hit William in the lower forearm, blood splattering to the floor.

Seemingly ignoring the wound, William knocked the pistol away again and grabbed Kris around the neck.

"It seems as if talking doesn't do anything with you." William muttered, before taking a big step and driving Kris headfirst into the window. The glass shattered, the shards cutting Kris' head and face. "It seems as if I will be a murderer today, after all." William grabbed the back of Kris' shirt and trousers, backed up, and then threw Kris straight through the already broken window.

Kris let out a yell as he soared through air for a second. He attempted to twist in the air and smashed back first into a windscreen of a car in the car park.

William watched Kris, who wasn't moving, before turning around towards Vera.

"Will..."

William's eyes grew wide at Vera's weak voice, and the red spreading across her nightgown. "Vera! No..." William stepped forward and saw the there was a ragged hole just below Vera's heart. "Vera..."

"This is what... it feels like..." Vera said softly, falling backwards onto her pillow. "Stop... us..." Vera let out a sigh and her breath left her body.

William stood shocked when the door opened again. He turned to see the bandaged man and Samuel, both of whom looked surprised.

"William? What the fuck!" The bandaged man bluntly exclaimed.

William closed his eyes, before standing straight. He was aware just how he looked, with his face cut up, a bullet hole in his arm, and standing over his dead sister. "Come. We have made a fatal mistake." William stood up straight and strode past Samuel and the bandaged man. They exchanged glances, before following the mortician. "We need to get out before the police get here. We have to find Scott and his friends. We need to make sure that they are okay."

William pushed open the door, ignoring the looks from the receptionist, and noticed that there was the car with the smashed windscreen, but no Kris. "Damn..." William growled, but nevertheless made his way to his own car. Dominique was still sitting in the backseat, her eyes staring blankly into the sky. Samuel sat beside her, cradling her and making sure she was all right while the bandaged man got into the driver's seat.

"You cannot drive like that, William. We need to get you some aid."

"Finding Scott is much more important than my health." William said, climbing into the passenger's seat. "But yes, you should drive. I'll deal with this on the way."

**XXX**

Kris cursed as he sat in the middle of an area of trees next to the retirement home. His back was killing him, let alone his hand. That did not go as planned, but nevertheless he managed to injure William.

His thoughts were cut off by a shout of his name. Looking up, Kris saw Gervais smirking, while leaning next to a car with its engine on.

"Hey, you still want him, right?" Gervais called out. "Take this car, the owner won't need it anymore."

Kris stood up, and looked suspiciously at Gervais. "Why..." he croaked.

"Death doesn't give up. William needs to be given his due." Gervais said, before walking off, hands in his pockets and whistling to himself.

Kris watched as Gervais turned the corner, before hearing sirens. Without another thought, Kris climbed into the waiting car.


	36. Just like Him

**(all right, blame the internet for the delays. It sucks, I know. Luckily, as a (late) Christmas present, you get two chapters for the price of one.**

**Thanks to zackt2010, coolman123, Cenobia100, and LocalTalent53 for the reviews. I've reached 200! That's brilliant and I thank you all! It always feels good to reach each hundred. Let's have a look at our resident William hunter, shall we?) **

Kris had decided that before continuing to hunt down William, he was going to collect the things close to him back at his house. Not many people knew, but Kris still lived with his mother. One of the reasons behind this was because it was much cheaper that buying his own house. He had planned to buy an apartment sooner than later, but he had never got around to it.

Now buying an apartment was the last thing on his mind. Clutching the wheel with his uninjured hand, Kris tried not to wince as he wiped away the blood on his face using his injured hand.

"Fuck William!" Kris spat, trying not to get too frustrated. He looked suspicious enough with his injured appearance, and he couldn't afford to get the police on his case, "Shit!" Kris suddenly exclaimed. In just that moment he realised that his fingerprints would no doubt be all over the place, let alone on the gun. "Fuck, fuck, FUCK!" Kris ignored his previous statement, and quickly twisted the wheel, going past a corner and causing more than a couple curses from opposing cars.

He entered the suburbs with a crash, knocking a steel rubbish-bin off the curb. Bouncing around in the car Kris went down the familiar street and came to a stop outside of his innocent-looking house. Knowing his mother would be inside, Kris jumped out of his car and limped to the front-door. His leg had also hit the car hard, which was the cause of the limp.

Opening the door quietly, since his mother never liked to be surprised, Kris walked in and immediately heard voices.

", and you are sure you haven't heard from your son?"

"Not after he phoned me before the funeral, no. I couldn't go, because I was working at the local orphanage."

"Can you give us his contact details, Mam. We need to get a hold of him as soon as possible."

"But why?" Kris winced as his mothers rare angry voice came on. Luckily, that anger was never directed at him. Keeping close to the door, Kris peered in the keyhole to see two police-officers. He restrained the urge to shout, but continued to listen. "You cannot just barge into MY home, and question me for no reason. Please, tell me what my son has done or what has happened to him!"

"Mam, I'm afraid... that your son is a suspect in a number of crimes that have happened recently."

"What..." Kris shut his eyes at his mother's pained voice. Nothing hurt him more than hearing his mother sound like that. He loved his mother, and he was not afraid to admit it.

Rebecca, or 'Becca' as she liked to be known, had been sexually assaulted 22 years ago by her step-father, when she was only 16. Becca had fought back, but ultimately was unable to do anything. Once she became pregnant, however, she was able to prove what her step-father had done, and got him in jail.

While others would have got an abortion and broken down, Becca knew that the child had no choice, and allowed herself to have a baby. For the next eighteen years, she had raised Kris as a single mother. They were best friends and family all tied into one. Kris had seen many rough things, but when it was revealed to him just who his father was, he had sought to protect his mother from any other dangers. Their relationship was close, close enough for Kris to feel a tinge of regret for what he was doing.

_I'm killing a killer. _Kris quickly reassured himself, when a hand suddenly clamped his shoulder.

", and just what do you think you're doing, son?" a grizzled voice said.

Slowly turning his head, Kris came face to face to a third police officer, with a mullet and goatee combination. The police-officer squinted.

"Wait, you-"

The police officer was cut off as Kris leapt forward and clasped his hands around the police officer's throat, jamming his thumbs into his windpipe. Kris kept on the ferocious grip, trying to keep silent and pushed forward into the kitchen. The police officer wrestled with Kris' arm, but Kris was too strong. Kris suddenly slammed his head forward and let go, knocking the officer silly. Reaching behind him, Kris felt for the kitchen knife and swung it hard, stabbing straight into the officer's ear.

The officer squirmed, writhed, and fell to the floor. Kris stumbled backwards, the knife still in his hands. He had just... murdered... and innocent person, a police officer, a person of the law...

"Oh shit..." Kris groaned, ignoring the pulsing pain of his hand from the previous actions.

"What..."

Kris looked up to see the two other officers in the doorway, looking at the blood. Kris reacted before the officers, throwing the kitchen knife like a dart. His aim was true, and it struck one in the neck. Kris quickly leaped to the side as the other let off a shot from his pistol. He grabbed another knife and heard the officer calling for back-up. Kris closed his eyes, before leaping from behind the wall and rolling, avoiding another shot. He threw the knife, but it went wide, cutting into the officer's stomach. Kris quickly ran forward and jumped on the officer, noticing the previous officer was dead.

The final officer struggled, but Kris quickly silenced him by pulling out the knife and stabbing it in one eye socket. Realising what had down, Kris leapt to his feet. What had he done? Three police officers, no doubt with families, children...

"Kris!" The shriek of Becca drew Kris' gaze. Kris moved forward and quickly put his hand against Becca, pushing her against the wall.

"Ssh, ssh." Kris whispered hurriedly. "Becca, please, don't struggle. I didn't mean to, but you don't understand. Please, understand that I am doing what is best, I-"

Becca pulled away from Kris, looking completely pale and shocked. "You... You're a murderer..."

"Becca, no, you know I love you, and I wouldn't-"

"You are just like _him_." The snarl in his mother's voice drew something deep within Kris, and before he knew it, Becca was clutching her cheek, a red mark from a slap appearing on her cheek.

Everything seemed to freeze for Kris. He had just hit his mother, the person he loved more than anyone, had just physically harmed her. Becca was in shock, shakily feeling her cheek. Kris took two steps backwards, before sprinting out of the door and back to the car, tears falling freely from his eyes.

One question Kris couldn't help asking to himself kept on repeating in his head. _Who am I?_


	37. Friends

Outside _Le musée de l'Egypte - les Collectionnés, _the atmosphere was a combination of grim and tense. The rain was increasing as another bout of the storm was soon to come in, and pools of muddy water was growing on the streets – not exactly helped by the cars splashing them onto the sidewalk and the pedestrians.

The museum was a small property owned by a Frenchman; however it was looking worse for wear. The sign on the front was faded and peeling, and the door handle was rusted almost to the point it was unable to move. Inside, thankfully, had been a collection which was one of the better ones the group of four teens had visited, yet the visit ended just like all the others. No mention of Archer McKinley.

Scott sighed to himself as he sat on the bench, hood over his head casting a shadow over his eyes. Brandon let out an equal sigh as he tapped his fingers on his knees. Following suit, Jovianne sighed as she glanced into her purse and saw nothing but a quarter resting between a lighter and her phone. She wasn't a smoker, but more than often some of her friends asked for a lighter so she had kept one on her at all times. Unfortunately, this led to a rather tense argument with her father when she first discovered she had cancer.

Smiling without humour, Jovianne remembered how he had practically blown a casket seeing the lighter and a pack of cigarettes she was keeping for a friend. She should have guessed the assumptions and understood them, but nevertheless her father had accused her of smoking herself to death. That was one of the only arguments the two had ever had, but it still stung.

"Anything?" Jessie asked, coincidentally thinking of an argument to do with cigarettes, a nasty one with his brother two weeks before he died. Adam had a brief and calm conversation with Jessie about the smoking before leaving for the house. Jessie had been frustrated, and before he knew it he had took out another cigarette. Adam had come back, and was completely shocked that Jessie had the nerve to pull out a cigarette after the conversation. Adam had shouted. Jessie had shouted. It was bad.

"A quarter." Jovianne sighed. "Our money is now spent. We won't be able to get the buses anymore."

Scott closed his eyes and sighed. "It's a pity that all of the history museums are spread about."

"You can't expect them to be bunched together though. That'd be too easy." Brandon let out a small laugh. "These things are never easy, trust me. It wasn't easy for Harry Potter, it's not going to be easy for us."

Scott let out a small cough and turned around to Brandon with wide eyes. "Did you really just reference our situation to Harry Potter of all people? A fictional character?"

"Well, he had to fight to survive. Now we are."

"You actually like Harry Potter?" Scott asked, blinking.

"Of course, and I'm not afraid to admit it." Brandon huffed. "Besides, from Book three it was basically a big horror movie. I mean, black dogs, deaths in the family, and an f'n creepy white baby. It's the works. You have your three innocent little kids caught up in a fight for life. I mean, you'd be Hermione, no doubt Scott. Intelligent and smart."

"I'm not entirely sure I was a girl, last I checked." Scott smirked and peeked under his shirt pointedly. "Nope, no breasts."

"Excuse me?" Jovianne butted in, looking slightly embarrassed. "Girl in the room here, keep the crude conversation about teen wonders to yourself."

"Technically a street." Jessie muttered, getting a friendly slap on the shoulder from Jovianne.

"Girl in the street, whatever." Jovianne sighed. "Besides, I think I'd be Hermione. I survived from near death just like her. I just need to find myself either a ginger or someone with glasses." Jovianne trailed off, obviously thinking to herself now.

"Don't forget the scar." Jessie teased, touching his forehead. "Or the scraggly hair, or the freckles, or the uncontrollable hormo- ow!" Jessie clutched his shoulder where Jovianne had slapped it.

"Oh don't be a big baby." Jovianne laughed.

Jessie looked up, without thinking, and pointedly said. "Boo hoo." His voice was whiny and he rubbed his eyes.

Jovianne smiled, Scott shook his head in mock-embarrassment and Brandon actually laughed, clapping Jessie on the back.

All four continued to chat, turning from Harry Potter to Resident Evil and even a brief conversation about Brandon's cousin's unfortunate obsession with My Little Pony.

If one was to look at this group, they would assume they were a group of friends on a day out despite the weather, joking around and having a good time. Indeed, they were having a good time. For a moment, Scott, Jovianne, Brandon and Jessie could forget about Archer, forget about being hunted and concentrate solely on forging friendships. Four people who wouldn't have given each other the time of day had it not been for the tragic accident.

After a good half an hour of conversation, Scott suddenly spoke up, "Look at us. It's like we aren't hunted by death, or concerned about our own demise. We're just talking."

"There isn't anything wrong with talking." Jovianne said placing a hand on Scott's shoulder. "It helped immensely that I could talk to my family and friends when I had cancer."

"I think it's fair to say, Scott, that you've just made three more friends, eh?" Brandon grinned. "Who would've thought it? An intelligent guy, a horror movie buff, a shy guy, and a short girl."

"Hey!" Jovianne frowned playfully. "I'm not that short!"

Brandon bent down so he was face to face with Jovianne. "How tall are you?"

Jovianne murmured something, looking away as Jessie and Scott tried not to laugh.

"Pardon?" Brandon cupped an ear. "I'm not entirely sure I heard that."

"Four foot Eleven." Jovianne said quickly, her cheeks growing red.

"I'm just teasing, don't get worked up." Brandon smiled again and playfully pushed Jovianne...

...straight into the path of an oncoming jeep. Jovianne let out a brief scream as she saw the vehicle but was silenced by a thud later.

"Jovianne!" Scott exclaimed in panic, running forward. He was the only one. Jessie looked scared, but Brandon looked completely mortified. His mouth hung open slightly, his eyes wide and unblinking. _What had he done?_

Scott kneeled down at the front of the jeep, where Jovianne lay unmoving. He breathed a sigh of relief when he saw her chest move, but then caught his breath as he saw blood spread out quickly underneath her head.

"Oh shit, shit, shit." Scott when to touch Jovianne but drew back. The injury could be serious, he didn't want to hurt her anymore. Fumbling in his pocket, Scott quickly drew out his phone and called the ambulance and the police.

When he was done, a voice behind him asked, "Why are you calling the police?"

Scott turned around briefly to the driver of the jeep, a prim, proper blonde woman wearing a black skirt and white shirt. She looked slightly worried.

"Why do you think?" Scott questioned, breathing hard. "How fast did you think you were going? Over the speed limit I'm sure."

"What? How dare you... this was her fault and nothing less." The woman snarled.

Scott opened his mouth to retaliate, but knew it was no good. He turned back to Jovianne, frowning and feeling his eyes grow hot.

It was enough to break a man, let alone a teenager. He had just begun making new friends, and now this? Not to mention next on the list was Jovianne...

"No, no, no, no..." Scott abandoned caution and reached for Jovianne's hand, although he still didn't move her head. "Jovianne, if you can hear me please don't die. Don't, please. We need you, we watched you, you can't die! Please!"

Watching aghast, Brandon felt horrible. There was a lump forming in his throat as he watched Scott's panicking figure and the blood pooled underneath Jovianne's head. He had made a promise that Jovianne would see her sisters and father again. He had promised to keep them all alive. He had said it so confidently... but now it looked like his words were for nothing. Jovianne was going to...

Brandon's fourteen year-old mind couldn't handle it, and he fell back onto the bench, head in his hands, weeping and snivelling. Tears and mucus ran through his fingers and down his chin, but he didn't care. The only thing he cared about was that Jovianne was going to die and it was going to be all his fault.

**(as a mention, Harry Potter, My Little Pony, and Resident Evil of course do not belong me, lol. Sorry to leave you on such a cliffhanger, but hey, it's effective. **

**Till next time.**


	38. Death in the Hospital

(**Hey! I'm back, goddamn school! Happy New Year! I got a very nice chapter for the first of the year, so I hope you all enjoy what's in store. **

**Thanks to Cenobia100, Jamesss, and LocalTalent53 for the reviews! (BTW Cenobia, Jovianne is not dead, just injured from the jeep).**

**I apologise for the delay, but I believe that it will be made up by the end of this chapter, I would hope. 'till next time!**

The hospital room felt claustrophobic for Scott, despite the fact it was actually rather spacious. The air felt thick and constricting, as if were standing in a room full of smoke instead of the clear air. In front of him, lying on the hospital bed was Jovianne; eyes still closed having not opened since the accident. A bandage was wrapped around her forehead from a gash in the back of head while a bandage was also wrapped around her upper forearm.

Scott hadn't had any sleep, and it showed from the black rings around his eyes. He stayed sitting on the chair, watching Jovianne for any sign of recovery.

"Hey."

Scott turned his head to see Jessie, who was sipping from a glass of water. He didn't reply but looked back to Jovianne.

"You got to get some sleep, y'know."

"I need to watch her. She's next, and I will prevent her death if I can help it."

Jessie sighed. "Why do you feel the need to watch her?"

Scott narrowed his eyes. "What?"

"You heard. It's not like you're the one who had the premonition, you don't have any connection to any of us."

"You'd rather just allow her to... walk into some kind of death?"

"Of course not." Jessie walked further into the room, placing the glass of water on a cabinet next to the door. "I'm just intrigued into your reasons. From what I know you stuck to yourself in your attempts to ace tests. You wouldn't give anyone other than your mother the time of the day, but now you're the leader, practically. You got the ideas and you tell us what to do. Why?"

Scott went to answer, but then closed his mouth.

"See?" Jessie sighed. "I don't understand other than the fact that you are... well, you're attracted to Jovianne."

"Heh..." Scott shook his head. "This isn't about my feelings in terms of that, Jessie. While... I admit she's attractive I'm not about to hit on her. If it were you or Brandon or anyone else I knew on this hospital bed, I would sit next to you. Perhaps my feelings of being perfect revolves about wanting to protect people. I can't explain it properly, to be honest, but that's the only reason I can think of."

"I suppose that's good enough..." Jessie said, looking up at the lights.

"How's Brandon?"

"Bad." Jessie connected eyes with Scot. "He's locked himself away. He thinks that it's all his fault that Jovianne is in hospital. I'm worried, but there isn't anything I can do. I suppose his mind can't handle it."

"I'll have to talk to him." Scott muttered, when suddenly the room was plunged into darkness. Scott's eyes widened as he turned his head this way and that, heard a crash, a curse, and then the lights burst on again, making him wince.

"Agh, son of a..." Jessie cursed, holding his shin. In the darkness he had hit his shin on the cabinet, knocking it over. The glass of water fell off with a faint _ting._

"Are you okay?"

"Fine... ow..." Jessie winced. "What the hell was that?"

"Power cut, in this storm I wouldn't be surprised." Nevertheless Scott looked worried. After a quick glance to Jovianne, he stood up. "Come with me. Let's try to talk to Brandon. I'm worried he'll try and do something to himself."

"Are you sure?"

"Certain. Come on." Scott went to open the door but it opened before he could grasp it. Scott gasped as he saw Kris standing in the doorway, looking worse for wear. A hood covered most of his face while his other clothes were baggy. "Sir?"

"Just call me Kris, Scott." Kris said, coming into the room and accidently knocking the fallen glass of water further towards the wall. A puddle of water started to form near the corner and a wire which powered the heart rate machine.

"What's wrong, we haven't seen you since the funeral. We thought you may have,"

"No, no I'm fine. Just fine. I-I heard about Jovianne... and I'd figured you'd be here Scott."

"You were looking for me?"

"Yes. I... yes. Have you had contact with William today?"

"Bludworth? I haven't seen him for a couple of days now. Let's just say we had a difference in opinion." Scott answered.

"So... you don't know where he is?"

"No, why?" Scott looked suspicious. "Don't tell me you want to kill people to gain their life?"

"Eh?" Kris' eyes widened. "No, no, no. I just... look, can I talk to you? Perhaps you can help me?"

"You're acting a bit weird, Kris." Jessie put in. "What's wrong? What have you done?"

"Why do you assume I've done something! I've done nothing, nothing." Kris spat, before taking a breath. "I've done... nothing... nothing..."

"Where's that blood from?" Jessie pointed to a speck of blood on Kris' cheek. "You got no injuries on the face."

"I, uh... I-"

"What have you done, Kris." Scott asked sternly. "You can talk to us."

"I... I..." Kris coughed and looked left and right. He shut the door with his foot and reached under his coat. "Look, you must know where William is."

"I told you, I don't. Besides, don't change the subj-"

"WHERE IS WILLIAM!" Kris yelled, pulling out the pistol from his coat.

"Woah, shit... Jesus Christ..." Scott backed up and put his arms up. "Hey, Kris, settle down. I do not know where William is!"

"Don't give me that crap! I know that you're working with him to find the solution to 'death'." Kris gave off a nervous laugh. "I was talking with Gervais, just last night. I, he told me that you two are together, that you both deserve to die! He gave me another weapon to deal justice!"

"What? Gervais-" Scott started but was interrupted.

"But I don't want to kill you!" Kris growled. "It's William I want so WHERE IS HE!"

"Kris, what has happened to you?" Scott questioned. "You were the sports teacher and a friendly one at that. How have you descended into such emotions?"

"That is of no concern to you. Don't you realize the situation? Tell me- Urgh!" Kris was cut off as he was tackled into the side by Jessie who had slowly edged around. Kris' finger hit the trigger and fired off a shot. The bullet hit the wall and rebounded into an oxygen tank, the shrapnel cutting a small hole which started hissing as oxygen burst outwards in a stream.

"Get off..." Kris pushed Jessie off but Scott leaped forward and grabbed the gun. Another shot fired off, this time hitting the corner and cutting the wire in two. A spark from the contact hit the water, which in turn made the electrical current go into the paper cup, which started smoking. "Drop... that!" Scott grunted and succeeded in pulling the pistol out of Kris' grip, but Kris slammed his foot into the side of Scott's knee. A horrible crack was emitted and Scott's knee buckled. He fell to the ground in pain. Kris turned around and slammed his elbow into Jessie's face and looked around, before sprinting off, this time with the weapon.

"Ahh..." Scott was breathing hard in pain. "God... Aghh..."

"Scott, are you okay?"

"I think..." Scott touched his knee and let out a fresh yell of pain. "He broke my fuckin' leg, I think... agh!"

"What? Shit..." Jessie suddenly caught site of the polystyrene cup, which had caught on fire. "Woah!" Jessie stomped on the cup, sending sparks flying up. A piece of the cup floated in the air towards the oxygen tank. "Huh..." Jessie noticed the tank far too late. "No!" The ember hit the oxygen, and the whole canister exploded. The walls shook as the pressure burst outwards, knocking Jovianne off of her bed.

"Jovianne!" Scott exclaimed. "Jessie, get her! Is she okay!"

Jessie nodded and ran forward, grabbing Jovianne's arms. He grunted as he lifted her. Scott watched, but saw the roof above the two starting to crack.

"Hurry!"

Jessie glanced up and saw the roof starting to lean inwards. With a heavy grunt he pulled Jovianne up and stepped backwards just as the roof collapsed where Jovianne would be. "Holy... fuck..." Jessie panted and carried Jovianne towards Scott.

"Get out of the room, go!" Scott yelled as he pulled himself up to one foot.

"What about you?"

"I can move on my own, it's fine." Scott winced as he said this. "Come on."

Jessie nodded and went through the door, where he saw a number of hospital staff coming. "Stay back! Call the police and the fire service!" Carrying Jovianne, Jessie walked forward when he heard a snapping sound. Turning around he saw the door close and part of the roof wall down, blocking the door. Eyes widening, Jessie carefully put Jovianne down and ran for the door, grabbing the large stone block and attempting to move it.

Inside, Scott was wrestling with the door, but to no avail. "Shit, damn! Fuck!" Scott turned around and saw the opposite wall was completely on fire. Smoke was filling the space and the fire was spreading towards him. Glancing to the side Scott saw another group of oxygen tanks. "Oh..." Scott realized what that meant, and put his mouth against the door. "Get out! If you can hear me, get away! There's going to be another explosion! Jessie, go and find William! Inform him of Kris and beg him if you can to help us! Please!" Scott turned around and started coughing, the smoke getting to him. The fire was running across the wall towards the tanks. "C-Call my mother, tell her that I said 'thank you'. Tell her that... that I'll be happy with dad... tell her that!" Scott couldn't hear anything over the raging fire sound and slumped down the door. "Tell her..." Scott murmured as the fire starting licking at the oxygen tanks. He threw his head up and stared at the ceiling covered in smoke. "I..." Tears not caused from smoke leaked down his cheeks. "I..." The oxygen tanks were now black and charred.

"I'm sorry... Karen... I-I... I broke my pr-promise..." Scott whispered, just as the oxygen caught fire. The tanks exploded, sending fire rolling across Scott's body. He closed his eyes tightly as fire washed over him.

Outside, Jessie was thrown backwards as the door was pushed outwards. He hit the floor but rolled onto all fours. He looked ahead and saw the charred body of... "Scott!" Jessie cried, getting to his feet and stumbling towards the body. He tried to shout again but he started coughing instead, falling to his knees and trying to clear his throat. Taking a breath after the fit of coughing Jessie reached towards Scott. "Scott... I heard you... I heard you... I'll tell her..." Jessie grit his teeth as the staff pulled him back and sirens were heard. "I'll tell her for you..."


	39. Why Can't I Die?

**A/N: Hey! Good news everybody, and not just one piece of good news:- **

**The first thing is, that I will be going back to my old updating schedule. No more 1-2 week long waits anymore. It'll be every other day. Yup, that's right, I'm going to be much more active now.**

**The quality of my chapters will almost certainly go up as well as the length. **

**Some news on my next Final Destination Projects:-**

**As you know, I've asked some of you for characters for the sequel of this story. This story will NOT be having a sequel, but don't fret. Your characters will be used in a special Final Destination story I have planned. As of the moment, it shall be called: Final Destination – Duel Fate. **

**When I start submitting that one, I will also be submitting Final Destination – Egyptian Heritage after a long while of saying I would. **

**Finally, I'm going to thank reviewers and if necessary put comments about your reviews at the end of the chapter, since I usually forget to respond to reviewers and it also gives other readers a chance to get answers they were looking for as well. **

_Smiling broadly, Adam Colons slapped the back of his brother. "Too bad you got the flu! I was looking forward to enjoying sharing the memories with you... guess I'll just keep 'em to myself." _

_ "No need to rub it in." Jessie murmured, turning away from his brother. _

_ "Hey, hey, hey! I'm teasing." Adam ruffled Jessie's hair. "Besides, it's only England. The only memories you get are those of sheep and old people. Not very exciting memories." _

_ Jessie coughed violently, before clearing his throat. "I thought you were going about now." _

_ "I am, but am I not allowed to give my brother some parting advice?" _

_ "Advice?" _

_ Adam's face turned serious, and without invitation he put his hand in Jessie's pocket and pulled out a packet of cigarettes. Jessie sighed, knowing exactly what was coming up. _

_ "You know what I'm going to say." _

_ "Of course." _

_ "And you know I'll keep on repeating until you give up." _

_ "But it's not that easy!" Jessie protested, bringing up his usual argument. "They are addictive! I... I mean, I'm addicted and I can't just give up with a click of my fingers!" _

_ Adam lifted the cigarettes, threw them into a nearby rubbish bin, and clicked his fingers pointedly. "There. Threw them away with the click of my fingers. Just do the same, it's easy. Besides, it's not about cigarettes this time." _

_ "Eh?" _

_ "Sit down." Adam lightly pushed Jessie into a seat. _

_ "What's wrong?" _

_ "You've been hearing mum and dad argue, yeah?" _

_ "I guess..." _

_ "Keep them happy brother. Make them see what their son is worth. I fear that they are on the verge of bad things. Bring them back over to the happy side. Make them remember the time they married and just why they love each other." _

_ "Umm... Okay..." Jessie looked confused, earning a smile from his brother. _

_ "Well, I ought to be off." Adam looked back to see his father standing next to the car, motioning him over. "See you bro. Just give up those cigarettes, yeah? Do it for me. You'll kill yourself." With that, Adam jogged off towards the car. _

_ "I thought you weren't going to talk about them." Jessie muttered, watching his brother be driven off. "Bloody stubborn brother. I'll have to try for when you come back, I guess..." _

XXX

Sitting on a bench, staring at a packet of cigarettes in his hands, Jessie let off a weary sigh and dipped his head. He had given up when he was informed of his brother's death, to honour his memory. It was hard, so very hard. Classmates incited pressure, he had to fight with his own ego... to impress everyone... it was so hard. But he kept to it. He kept to it because he loved his brother and didn't want to pain him even after death.

Back then, he had smoked for the simple reason of popularity. To get in with the crowd. To look _cool. _Impress the ladies. Not that it worked. Jessie bit his lip and pulled one of the thin white sticks out. He knew exactly what they did to you. He had the lessons; saw the effects, the black lungs, and the bloody coughs. Knew that there was a very real possibility that he would die, but still he continued smoking the stuff.

It took the giant shock of his brother's death to make him give up. And now, it seemed as if another shocking death reversed that decision.

Scott... Jessie grit his teeth. He had never once guessed that Scott would have died. Never in a million years. He was the intelligent one, the perfect one, and the one who had ideas on what to do. Then, just like that, he was killed. By accident, but nevertheless caused by Kris. Jessie couldn't fathom why Kris would do that, why he was so hell-bent on getting William's where-about, but no matter, it caused Scott's death. He caused Scott's death.

Jessie closed his eyes and pulled out a zippo lighter, frowning. "I'm sorry Adam... I need to... I need that feeling that I've missed for all those years..."

Lighting the cigarette, pulling it towards his mouth, ready to bask in the feeling he would no doubt get when he took a drag.

Then the cigarette was slapped out of his hand. It hit the floor, smoking. A black shoed foot crushed it to the ground. Jessie was too shocked to react for a few seconds, before looking up, taking in the neat trousers, black jacket, dark skin and bald head. "William!" Jessie gasped.

"Now is not the time to be killing yourself, Jessie." William said, looking disappointed. "I would have presumed that with Scott's death you would find unseen resolve and searched for a way out more feverishly. A way to survive. Instead you succumbed to your desires and went back on your brother's word. Were you not going to live his wish out? Were you going to throw his words to the side? Were you going to forget what Adam Colons said to you?" William reached down, gripped Jessie's shoulder, and pulled him up as if he were a child. "I would have expected more from you. You are on death's doorstep, Jessie. Like Ms. Jovianne, Dominique, Brandon and Samuel. All five of you are the remaining survivors of that school explosion. All five of you, as of this moment, are running towards a dead end. The question of the matter is, what will you do about it?"

William became silent, his words striking Jessie deep. Jessie licked his teeth, before answering. "What help would I want of you? You were willing to kill, William. I didn't want any of that, which was why I joined Jovianne, Scott and Brandon."

"I was indeed willing to kill, as that was proven to work. However, it has dawned on me another answer. Without bloodshed. It is a rather intriguing answer and one I wish to research fully. I would greatly appreciate it if you five could come with me."

"Wait... Wait one moment!" Jessie gasped. "What about Gervais?"

"Gervais Jean is now an unfortunate victim of death."

"What!"

"The list, Mr. Colons, the list. Scott was not after Jovianne, so despite you saving her, he still should not have died. Gervais was before him. The only reason I can realise is that Gervais was killed, alone, with no one around him. He would have died in ignorance, I can only assume."

Jessie tried to absorb the information when another question popped to his head. "Kris!"

"We don't need to find him." William said sternly, memories harsh on his mind.

"Find him? You don't need to find him; you need to run away from him!"

William remained quiet, waiting for Jessie to get to the point.

"Kris caused that explosion which killed Scott. He... He was searching for you, William! Not just an inquisitive search. He was angry, like he wanted you dead!"

"I'm well aware." William muttered.

"Wait one... moment... "Jessie interrupted, thinking. "No... No, Gervais isn't dead."

"The only other way is if he killed or-"

"If he killed then he killed! Although I doubt he would kill for no reason – seeing as he doesn't believe in Death." Jessie shook his head. "Kris said that he was talking to Gervais the night before, so unless Gervais died in the night, I don't think he's dead!"

"Hmm... well in either case, we cannot ask him. He is too much of a liability. Now, I will wait until Jovianne recovers until I tell you what I think. Where's Brandon?"

"We need to talk to him... actually." Jessie sniffed. "He blames himself for Jovianne's accident... I- "

"Foolish boy!" William hissed, before striding over to his car. "Come with me. Now!"

XXX

The pace was frantic, William driving via Jessie's directions to where Brendon was. Jessie was confused by the urgency, but he was too much caught up in his thoughts to ask William about it in detail. Finally, William came to Brandon's house.

"S-Stop, We're here!" Jessie quickly said, causing William to break sharply. Jessie was thrown forward, but the seatbelt tugged hard against his chest. Taking a breath, Jessie saw that William was already climbing out the car.

Jessie only knew the whereabouts of Brandon as he followed him after Jovianne's accident. Brandon had gone straight to his house in shock, mumbled about 'parents being out', and told Jessie he'd be fine. That was when Jessie had left him.

"Will you explain now?" Jessie called after William, finally asking.

William didn't reply, tested the door and found it opened easily. He stepped inside the comforting looking house and called out sharply. "Brandon! Where are you!"

No response.

William growled and started with the lower floors. The kitchen. The Living room. The Dining Room. No luck. Licking his lips, William went up the stairs, and ducked into the parents' bedroom, the bathroom and some kind of movie room.

"This is the last room." William murmured quietly, placing his hand against the door carefully. He seemed to be having doubts, after hearing no noise.

"What's wrong?" Jessie whispered, filled with dread.

"Be prepared, Mr. Colons." Was all William said before pushing open the door.

It revealed an empty bedroom. A single bed rested in the corner, with a desk opposite it. A large shelf filled with all kinds of horror movies stood next to an equally large shelf filled with horror video games. There was a poster for Saw, the map of Silent Hill, and a promotional poster for Resident Evil on one wall, while a large painting was on the opposite wall. The painting was half-finished, and appeared to be off a large zombie horde with one survivor.

Walking over to it, Jessie noticed paintbrushes and fresh paint. Closer inspection revealed the one survivor was actually Brandon, drawn quite well.

"He must've tried to draw to clear his mind." Jessie murmured, turning around to William. "He should be... fine..." Jessie trailed off as he saw what William was holding. It was a long piece of rope, with a large, neck sized loop at the end. A noose. "What..."

"You should not have left him alone." William fell to one knee and inspected the ground. There was a bloody razor, and a blood trail leading to another door.

Jessie was hit with the implications hard, as if punched in the gut. His stomach twisted as he realised he had left a potentially mentally harmed boy alone with dark thoughts. "N-No..." Jessie whispered throatily, wrestling with his emotions. "I-I didn't..."

William's shoulders slumped, the energy from searching for Brandon got. "Do not take this situation as your fault, Jessie." William grabbed the door-knob, twisted, and pulled the cream door open. Jessie was the first to see into what was a bathroom. He could see blood pooling on the floor, and speckles of blood on the wall. Jessie felt compulsion take over and he stepped in front of William and into the bathroom.

It seemed the room was filled with only blood, with more bloody razors in the sink and the bath. An empty packet of razors was also ripped to shreds on the floor. Jessie squinted, and noticed grimly that bits of broken fingernails were spread on the floor, including one full one. Turning his head into an alcove, Jessie saw a huddled figure.

"I-It d-d-doesn't work..." A strained, pained voice murmured quietly. "I-I-I cannot... can-cannot..."

Jessie's eyes widened as Brandon looked up to him with wide, vacant eyes.

"I can't d-d-die..." Brandon murmured, looking down at his body. His clothes were stained with blood, with hundreds of deep slices in his arms, cutting into the veins. It wasn't just slices from a razor. There were lots of smaller scratches, courtesy of fingernails. The same fingernails lying haphazardly around the room. Bloody gaps were on Brandon's fingers where unprotected flesh glistened. Jessie felt revolted, but saw a thick marking of rope around Brandon's neck and felt the impulse to gag. This was wrong. No human being should do this to itself.

"I tried and tried and t-t-t-tried..." Brandon continued, before suddenly leaping forward and grabbing Jessie's collar, pushing him back. "I can't die!" Brandon moaned, tears brimming in his eyes. "I want to d-d-die, I want to die, but, but I can't, I-I can't..."

Jessie didn't know what to say as Brandon fell limp in his shoulders, weeping.

"I-I can't die..."

Jessie kept Brandon in a safe embrace, putting his arms around the young teenager, putting his head on his shoulder like Adam used to do when Jessie hurt himself in biking accidents. Jessie turned his head and saw William looking shocked. Jessie couldn't understand that look. Surely William would be happy Brandon was alive?

"We need to call an ambulance..." Jessie said to William after a few seconds. He gulped, and continued. "William, we need to get him to a hospital. He's... He's really hurt..." Jesse blinked, trying to pull together his thoughts and remain calm. "William..."

William stayed standing, looking confused. "I-I will..." He muttered absently, grabbing at his mobile phone. While he did, he muttered something else. "Why did he survive?"

**Coolman123 – Indeed, Scott is dead. **

**LocalTalent53 – I can't just put signs so obvious now, can I? I wonder if you spotted them all...**

**Jamess – Oddly enough, Jessie came into consideration, unfortunately, positions on the list and somewhat made things difficult for Jessie to die at that point, **

**A Mosaic Masterpiece – "Reads neverending exclamation marks and is found dead with exclamation marks printed on his eyeballs."**

**With that, till two days where I shall introduce the final new important character! Tata! **


	40. Father and Son

**A/N: On second thought, it's easier to answer the reviews up here, so that the ending of chapters can have a lasting impact.**

**LocalTalent53: Aha, questions are going to be going to be answered more than asked now as I start towards the end of this tale. **

**Cenobia100: Current survivors from the accident are: Brandon, Jessie, Jovianne, Dominique, Gervais, Kris, and Samuel. Other notable characters include William and the Bandaged Man (The Identity of which shall be answered soon) **

**Patts9009: You must remember, Brandon and Samuel have killed. Currently, they are off the list. Either way, Kris is next on the list. How will our resident murderer handle that one? **

**A Mosaic Masterpiece: I suppose the simple answer is yes. Yes they will be answered. XD **

**Read on folks for the last important character debut! **

"Uh-huh. Yep. So you're coming back straight to the hospital anyway with Brandon? Fine, we'll wait for you here." The bandaged man clicked his phone shut and faced Samuel muttering into Dominique's ear. "Is that girl _still_ like that? Christ, there's a hospital right there." The bandaged man thrust his thumb back to the hospital behind them.

"No!" Samuel hissed. "It was bad enough going into that retirement home!"

"Hm?" The bandaged man looked questioningly at Samuel. "Feeling bad about what you did?"

"No. No, he hurt Dominique." Samuel quickly said. "It's just that I'm a wanted man. I murdered someone! Someone in high authority no less. I'm surprised I haven't been discovered yet."

"Well, I'm pretty sure that it'll be over soon anyway." The bandaged man said, looking out from the end of the car park they were standing in.

"Are you going to tell us who you are? Y'know, you're making it as if it's going to be a big reveal." Samuel snorted. "What, are you someone returning from the dead?"

"Almost there." The bandaged man said with a grin. "I'm just a sucker for building up things. You'll find out who I am in due time, I'm sure."

"Why don't you just take off those bandages?"

"I could, but where is the fun in one vegetable and one murderer?"

"Hey!" Samuel's anger sparked up. "You're a murderer too! Besides, I did it out it out of necessity and self defence."

"I prefer to call mine 'assisted suicide'."

"You still killed someone, you are in exactly the same boat as me!"

"Not quite. No-one knows that's I've committed any foul."

"Oh? I know. I'll tell the police."

"Tell... the police? Hah! Haha!" The man burst into laughter. "You'd be jumped before you got into the door." The man suddenly stopped laughing and leant forward so he was eye to eye with Samuel. "Besides, I'd make sure you _never _got near the police station in the first place."

"Woah there, batman. Pretty sure teenagers and adults are generally frowned upon relationships, especially same-sex."

The bandaged man and Samuel turned to see none other than Gervais strolling down the car park, hands in his pockets, with all the care in the world.

"Gervais..." The man growled, stepping forward but was pushed in the chest.

"Do I know you? Get outta my way." Gervais walked straight past the man and turned to Samuel. "Hey, hey, Jenkins. How's it feel being a murderer?"

"What the hell do you want Gervais? Why are you even here? Are you not advertising Death and making a profit of it? You've already created the Black Parade and so much publicity it's not even funny."

"I think it's kinda humorous." Gervais shrugged. "So, where's old Bluddy?"

"You're even more rude than I remember kid." The bandaged man growled.

"Seriously, do I know you?"

"Of course!" The bandaged man reached up to his bandages but a dark hand clamped onto his shoulder, stopping him in his tracks.

"Now, now, now. Let's not reveal unnecessary things." Said a familiar calm voice.

"William," The man said, turning around but froze.

It wasn't William standing there. While the man was equally as tall and dark, he looked much much older. Wrinkles lined his cheeks and eyes, eyes which were filled with history. He wore a faded white suit, which now looked grey, and a cane in his hands.

"Who the hell are you!" The man growled, pulling away from the grasp.

"My name is Darren Bludworth. I am looking for my son. Would you, perchance, know where I could find him?"

**XXX**

In the car, Jessie was keeping Brandon close, trying to stop his shivering. They had covered his arms with some bandages for the time being, and formed a makeshift sling to keep him from irritating his fingers.

Seeing Brandon in such a state, Jessie felt somewhat worried. Everything was breaking down, it seemed. Jovianne's accident, Scott's death, Brandon's self-mutilation... Jessie couldn't help asking, was he next?

"We'll get Brandon treated only in terms of bandages and protection, then we'll take him with us."

"But he needs-"

"No. We do not when the next death will happen. To be safe, we'll have to stay together."

"But-" Jessie continued.

"What happened to Scott last time you were in the hospital?" William said bluntly, looking at Jessie through the mirror.

Jessie bit his lip, but nodded. "Do you really think it's coming to an end?"

"Yes." William said easily. "Whatever the outcome, this list will be over."

"This list? You expect there to be another?"

"Well, this has happened numerous times before. What's to say it won't happen after?"

"I can't believe it's this hopeless..." Jessie gulped. "The only way to... to survive is to kill, generally devastating our lives anyway. There isn't any hope at all."

"I told you, I have a pla-"

"A plan! A plan, William?" Jessie raised his voice, surprising himself. "Plans never work! Scott had a plan, and now he's dead, and let's not mention your previous plans."

"Don't get frustrated, Jessie."

"How? How do you suggest I not get frustrated? Look at us, William, look at us. You don't have to worry about it; you're not on the list! But we are breaking down! Our minds are getting affected. Hell, Brandon's probably not gonna recover."

"Who said that...?" Brandon mumbled, pulling himself from Jessie's chest. "Not me, for sure."

"Brandon!"

"Hey." Brandon said weekly, glancing at his arms. "God... I feel horrible..." Brandon looked to the roof of the car. "Was it bad...?"

"Yeah... yeah it was bad..." Jessie said quietly. "How are you?"

"F-Fine... I think... heh, not dead at least..." Brandon blinked. "I wasn't expecting... to do what I did, I... I can't forgive myself. I started painting, and got really into it. But while I was painting my face it was as if I were punched in the stomach by Mike Tyson." Brandon smiled lowly. "I guess... I guess that I just couldn't stand it. But I'm okay, I realised it was an accident, Jovianne's in hospital... I was half expecting Scott to find me but..." Brandon trailed off as he saw the look on Jessie's face. "What's wrong?"

"Scott... he..."

"He's dead." William put in, not looking at the two teenagers. "His turn has come."

"Have some consideration William!" Jessie exclaimed, surprised at William's bluntness.

"It's fine..." Brandon looked down to the floor. "I guess I should've seen it coming... how?"

"Basically a direct result of Kris attacking us." Jessie said.

"Kris? How is he invo-"

Before Brandon could finish, William broke sharply, sending both teens against their seatbelts.

"Ah, William, what are-" Jessie trailed off. They were at the hospital car park, he hadn't realised it, but was distracted by William's face, a mixture of anger, confusement and slight shock. "William?"

Not replying, William climbed out of the car and strode forwards fast. Helping Brandon out, Jessie followed, and saw where William was heading.

It was the group consisting of Sam, Dominique, the bandaged man, an odd dark-skinned man and none other than Gervais.

"Well whaddya know, looks like everyone back together again." Gervais smirked. "All we need is Kris and then it'll be a successful reunion. Oh, and Jovianne I guess but she's in no fit state to,"

"No fit state to what...?"

Gervais' voice trailed off as he spotted Jovianne limping towards them, bandage on her head, and looking exhausted.

"Jovianne! You shouldn't be walking!" Jessie rushed forward, grabbing her shoulder.

"I'm fine." Jovianne murmured. "Just knocked silly. I saw Gervais out the window and wanted answers, now you guys are here." Jovianne saw Brandon out of the corner of her eye and her expression softened. She walked towards Brandon, but he flinched back. Ignoring this movement, Jovianne reached for Brandon and, surprisingly, pulled him into a hug. "Hey, it's not your fault I was injured, okay? It was an accident. Accidents happen all the time."

"I..." Brandon felts tears running down his cheeks. "I'm sorry..."

"I told you, it's not your fault." Jovianne glanced down to Brandon's arms. "What have you done?"

"Enough pleasantries." William called out sharply. He turned towards Darren. "Father, I would have thought you would have killed yourself by now."

"Is that the best way to greet me son?"

"To be perfectly honest, I lost any and all respect and love for you when you Eliza died."

Darren smiled grimly. "Ah, I see you know, that would mean-"

"Yes. Vera is dead. Your hypnotism has been broken. I remember everything that James told me, about the Bludworth's and the McKinley's. I will hold to James word. I will stop this family feud!"

"There is no need of that now, son." Darren grasped William's shoulder. "I came here to tell you it's all ended."

"What...?" William looked confused.

"The McKinley line is dead, William. The McKinley's exist no longer. It's ended."


	41. It's Real

**A/N: Alright! I wasn't planning on doing what I did in this chapter, but the way it flowed work, so we got a nice fun chapter. Well, thanks to: - **

**Cenobia100: Wondering what the next death is? Perhaps this chapter shall enlighten you? *Insert evil laugh here***

**LocalTalent53: The bandaged man will of course be revealed soon, I promise! **

**A Mosaic Masterpiece: Perhaps I'll keep Darren around for a bit longer... perhaps not... **

**With that, read on! **

"The McKinley... line is... dead..." William blinked slowly, not completely registering his father's words. "What do you mean?"

"I mean what I say..." Darren looked confused. "The McKinley line is no more. What is there to think about?"

"All of them? Gone?"

"Yes. The last was David McKinley. Oddly enough, he was unconscious when we found him." Darren sighed. "So it has ended. Hundreds of years of this obscene family feud is finally at an end. No more need to be hurt."

"No more need to be hurt?" William's nostrils flared in surprising anger. "Do you not realise just what you have done to hundreds of lives? Families without their sons or parents. In your quest to kill the McKinley's you have destroyed so many lives."

"The only lives that have ended are the McKinley's. It was the only way."

"What? Do those lives mean nothing to you?" William placed a knuckle on his forehead in an attempt to calm himself down. "The lives of those people who died in flight 180 were just cannon fodder? You inserted visions just for the fun of it?"

"Excuse me?" Darren raised an eyebrow, momentarily distracted by the reflection of a lorry in a window. He turned back to William. "Flight 180? That plane that crashed a while ago... and you say inserted visions?"

"I am not a fool father!" William was starting to lose control of his emotions as the others watched in interest, even Gervais who would have usually said something snappy. "I know that the Bludworth's are hypnotists. It explains everything to do with the visions. You made them see an accident, and then loved to see them save others. Then you killed the survivors one by one. What was the cause? The meaning? Why would you kill those people who weren't McKinley's?"

"Woah, this guy messed with my mind?" Gervais broke in. "He made me see the f'n awful explosion at school?"

"I-" Darren protested.

"Don't try!" William sneered. "You delight in messing with the minds with innocent people. Do you know how many of your victims I have seen laying on my slab at the morgue? Do you want me to name them one by one?"

"Victims, I-"

"Carter Horton, hit by a sign in France. Todd Waggner, strangled. Terry Chaney, hit with a bus!" William's eyes widened in fury. "Are these people McKinley's? Clear Rivers and Eugene Dix hit with an explosion. Tim Carpenter, crushed by a pane of glass. A young son's death causing his mother's grief and eventual death as well. So many people, I could go on and on! Damn it Darren, did you fucking kill those innocent people!" William was clutching Darren's jacket, eyes shining.

"Never once in my life..." Darren said quietly. "Have I heard you curse like that. You say that I have killed these people, that I arranged accidents, that I implanted these visions. This is not true. We only killed McKinley's, and they were only solitary 'accidents' that would not have harmed anyone else. Archer desecrated our ancestor's tomb by putting his remains on for show. For that, each McKinley deserved a private death."

"Private? You call Ian McKinley's death 'private'? He was killed in a public fair! You are a liar, father! A damn liar!"

"Ian McKinley?" Darren scratched his chin. "Funny you should mention him. He was the only one we didn't kill. After he was involved in that situation with the rollercoaster, he was crushed by a sign in an accident."

William stepped back as if struck in the face. "What...?" William whispered.

"I said-" Darren was cut off by William.

"I don't believe this..." William clutched his head. "All this time I was wrong? Again! In the end... it wasn't hypnotism? I thought that was the answer, it made sense!" William looked up, sweating and frustrated. "It made sense, father, it made sense!"

"William," Jessie got up the nerve to speak up, grabbing the man's shoulder. "William, what does this mean?"

"What does this mean?" William repeated. "Death is real! Death is real, Jessie!"

At that moment, a sudden crashing sound was heard. On the road, a lorry had crashed head-on with a smaller car. The car was lit up by flames covering its bonnet, shining ominously.

"Oh no..." William stepped back as the car exploded. A spinning fan flew straight outwards, directed at William. William could only stand and stare.

"Watch out!" Jessie dived forward, knocking William down. The fan flew outwards, slamming into the side of the hospital. Jessie panted, turning around when he saw the panicked face of a driver in the seat of a car, driving straight for him. Jessie was frozen in the spot, but William grabbed his shirt and pulled him down. The car hit the curb of the car park and raised slightly in the air, clearing Jessie and William. It landed with a squeal and overturned, spinning straight for Samuel, holding Dominique. Samuel managed to pull both himself and Dominique out of the car's way, without an inch to lose.

"Woah, that was close..." Samuel muttered, clutching Dominique close to his chest. Dominique suddenly let out a scream, scratching at Samuel's face. Samuel yelped and let go, allowing Dominique to stand up and look around wildly. She stumbled back, shocked, and hit into Jovianne. Jovianne fell to the ground, grazing her hands.

Dominique hugged herself. "Dad, dad!" she cried the word over and over again, tears spilling down her face.

"Dominique!" Samuel ran to Dominique and clutched her shoulder. "Are you okay? You're active, you-"

"You killed my dad!" Dominique boldly punched Samuel straight in the cheek, knocking him back first to the floor. Samuel blinked slightly in surprise, when another explosion sounded, this time from the car which just missed them. A stray exhaust pipe spun around, slamming straight into Samuel's head. Blood and brains burst outwards, staining the ground with bits of gore and flesh. Samuel's corpse twitched, blood pumping from his open neck.

Dominique received a large piece of shrapnel to the leg, cutting into the back of her knee and causing her to cry out in pain. She fell forward onto Samuel's corpse, crying in pain and misery, trying to keep herself from vomiting at the sight of Samuel's mangled corpse.

Brandon had managed to jump on Jovianne at the last moment, covering her body with his. Flames ripped over his back, burning him, but otherwise Brandon was okay, gritting his teeth in pain.

"Jessie, Dominique and then Jovianne..." William muttered wildly.

"What?" Jessie panted, looking up at William.

"I was blocked from death, you blocked my death-"

"Save your thanks." Jessie looked around. "We need to make sure the others are okay." Jessie saw Samuel and winced in horror.

"But I'm on the list now." William said, the moment a squealing sound was heard. Jessie and William turned to see none other than Kris hunched down in an already smashed up car, yelling wildly. Jessie jumped out of the way, but William was too late. The car smashed into his legs and chest, shattering the bones and causing a small amount of blood to spill from the morticians mouth. William flipped over the car as Kris braked. He climbed out of the car, a cut on his head.

"I almost had you!" Kris roared, pointing at the destruction. "I caused a crash and I almost had you!" Kris stepped towards William in pain. "No... nah, nah, I DO have you! Zoe will be happy with me! Finally, after all this time, I can kill you!" Kris laughed and ran at William just as Kris' previous car burst into flames. Metal shot out as the engine exploded, and one piece of metal pierced Kris straight in the chest. The metal tip burst out from in front of Kris' chest, straight through his heart. Kris' eyes bulged outwards, as his mouth opening and closing. Blood trickled down Kris' chest and mouth.

"I-I-I had... you..." Kris managed to say before falling to his knees. "I had y-you..." Kris fell face first onto the ground, twitching.

**A/N: I figure it may be slightly confusing, so in case you missed it these are the guys who died this chapter: Samuel and Kris. **

**As with Kris, as predicted he has killed 6 men and 1 woman as a result of his actions. Here are those people: **

**Vera Bludworth  
>The three male policeman in his house interviewing his mother<br>Scott North (by shooting the oxygen tanks)  
>Samuel Jenkins (By causing the crash) <strong>

**And the last? Well, to cause a bit of drama I'll tell you. William Bludworth. The next chapter shall be entitled: The Death of William Bludworth**

**Till then! **


	42. The Death of William Bludworth

**A/N: Hey guys! I am really happy with how this chapter turned out, and I can only hope you'll enjoy reading it as much as I did writing it. This is the penultimate chapter. The next chapter will be the epilogue. After this chapter, no-one dies during the story. So, the survivors are Dominique, Jessie, Brandon, Jovianne and Gervais. A bit more than I was expecting, but that's how it turned out. But, the epilogue will reveal certain things, so it may not be clear cut. **

**Jamesss – Jessie is now an official survivor, of course! **

**Cenobia100 – When is the bandaged man going to reveal himself? Why this chapter sounds about right... **

**LocalTalent53 – We'll see a lot of Gervais' mind this chapter, which is quite a nice inlook as to his thoughts**

**A Mosaic Masterpiece – Samuel's a douche who only survived for the reason of kill of be killed. **

**Well, let's read on shall we? Oh! Any questions of yours that aren't answered on this chapter, review them so I can make sure I answer them in the epilogue (I will be answering a chunk of them next chapter though) **

**1 Week later**

"Hey, Jessie."

Jessie looked up from the hotel magazine to see Jovianne standing in the doorway. The group had discussed at length, and decided to stay together in a hotel rather than go back to their homes alone. "What's up?"

"William wants to see us." Jovianne said.

"In his condition?" Jessie got up and dusted off his shirt. "I thought he had brain damage, among the other injuries?"

"Not severely. He can still talk. Apparently he wants to talk to all of us. You, me, Brandon, Dominique AND Gervais."

"I thought he was in hiding from the police? They came round yesterday asking if I'd seen him."

"What'd you say?"

"I lied about seeing him. While Gervais is, pardon my language, a dick, he still seems important in some way or another." Jessie shrugged. "Where's Brandon?"

"In the car outside. Darren came to pick us up."

"Okay." Jessie nodded and pulled on his coat and followed Jessie outside the room. While in the elevator, Jessie turned to Jovianne. "Don't you feel homesick? Being away from your dad and sisters?"

"No... I-I've said that I've gone on holiday with you – they think some kind of _romantic rendezvous_," Jovianne snorted. "I think it is better keeping them in the dark. When I was at hospital I asked the nurses to call them. If... if something happens to me, then they can just say I died on holiday. I don't want to bring them into this, I don't want to think that I was constantly looking over my shoulder in fear of death." Jovianne bit her lip.

"Wow... that's... that's awfully strong of you. In fact, you've been strong throughout, really." Jessie sighed. "Not only before the accident – surviving cancer and all – but you've practically kept your calm throughout this all. You took everyone's deaths in your stride and just kept on going, despite injuries to yourself."

"That's just the way I am." Jovianne said softly. "I don't wish to dwell on what might have been or what could have happened. If I have hope, I will live. I'm confident in that."

The elevator came to a stop, and opened its doors to reveal the hotel lobby. Jessie shivered, remembering his previous experience with an elevator, but quickly stepped out and nodded to the female receptionist. Going outside, Jessie and Jovianne were immediately battered with a new bout of wind and rain. Spying the car, they climbed in to find Darren in the driver's seat, Dominique in the passenger's seat, and Brandon in one of the backseats. Jovianne went to the middle followed by Jessie, who closed the door.

"It looks like another storm is coming." Darren said upon seeing the two climb into his car. "It would be best to go now, otherwise we may be caught in a more vicious storm." With that Darren started off.

"Hey, Dominique. H-How are you feeling?" Jessie asked, feeling uncertain. Out of all of the survivors, both Samuel and Dominique were the ones they had least contact with. Now Samuel was dead, Dominique more than likely needed to talk to someone.

"How am I feeling?" Dominique let off a bitter laugh. "Well, I've just recovered from a long shock-induced state, just at the time when my best friend got killed, realised that he was actually a piece of scum trying for my money... yeah, other than that I'm doing A-Okay. Oh, let's not forget about death haunting us, since, y'know, that's not a problem at all." Dominique relapsed into silence, irritated. The silence continued throughout the journey, until Darren pulled to a stop outside a different hospital than the where the car crash was. Darren quietly got out and walked towards the door, allowing the others to follow him.

A short walk to the private room of William, and they entered to find him on the bed, seemingly covered in tight bandages, although his legs were strapped in place. More surprisingly was the bandaged man, sitting in a chair looking serious.

"Good morning." William called out throatily. "You came as well, Father."

"When a man on his deathbed wishes to talk to someone, it is only right to come." Darren said sadly.

"Deathbed? He's not-" Jovianne started but was interrupted by William.

"It is not a lie, Jovianne. I am indeed..." William broke out into coughing, before looking back to Jovianne with worn eyes. "...on my deathbed. It is as my father says. My legs are shattered, my ribs fractured and I believe my arm is broken. I... have suffered head trauma..." William smiled. "It's a miracle that I'm even in my right mind now. I should be resting, but I fear that the moment I close my eyes it will be the end. No, I want to talk to you all before this happens."

"You shouldn't lose hope!" Jovianne protested.

"It is not a matter of losing hope, Jovianne. It's a matter of my body not handling it." William coughed viciously again. "I am not like you. I am, essentially, an old man with a failing body. Perhaps if I was younger... but no. No point to dwell on things that do not need dwelling over." Sighing, William turned to Jessie. "Well, honour a dying man by listening to his words. I do not mean to be... shall we say dramatic. I just want to speak with my heart. Jessie... Jovianne and D-Dominique." William spluttered, leaning over spitting blood into a bedside pan. "You will always be on this list, and you will always be threatened by death. I cannot say much on this situation, due to the fact that I have never been in it. I have had many ideas on how to prevent such a fate, but none have worked. The only one which has worked makes people lose their humanity, makes them live in misery. I hope you survive, I really do. I wish I could help you, but honestly I cannot. You do have options, though. You could protect yourself by locking yourselves away, or putting yourselves in an Asylum like Clear Rivers once did. You will have to make that choice sooner rather than later."

The three looked the each other, already thinking about the options available to them.

"Brandon..." William reached out and grasped the young teenagers hand, who shivered at the touch. "You are so young... so inexperienced. Yet you have dealt with tragedy and have killed a man. It may have been inadvertent, or an accident, but Lewis McKinley's blood will always be on your hands. But do not let that rule you! Do not let that blood take you over! You have... a possible five years to live safely. Make the most of these years. See if you can find out what I couldn't. See if there truly is a solution to the seemingly impossible question."

Brandon quietly nodded, feeling his eyes grow hot. Despite William being a new man he met, it still hurt to see the same man who tried so hard coming to the end.

"Father... what time is it?" William looked to Darren, who in turn looked to his watch. Darren reported the time, making William smile slightly. "I hope he made it here."

At that moment, the door opened and Gervais walked in, looking drawn and haggard, but still had a grin on his face, although it didn't seem to reach his eyes. "Geez, you would have thought being a run-a-way from the police, being a murderer, unable to walk into any shop or public place wouldn't be so hard." Gervais rolled his eyes. "But hey, what can I say. So, old man, you wanted me to come. I see you got quite the crowd, it seems a shame to break such a thing up."

"Don't be like that now!" Jessie growled, but William raised a hand.

"It is fine. In a way, Gervais reminds me of myself when I was younger. Naive, rebellious-"

"You're telling me." Darren muttered with a faint smile.

"-and somewhat of a fool. Gervais, that smile is a fake smile." William grabbed Gervais' wrist and pulled him closer. "You act so... free... you call me an old man and you are sarcastic. It seems as if you don't have a care in the world. But it is all a lie, to no-one but yourself. Do you really believe that you will be able to be a run-a-way all your life?"

"Well, I don't _exactly _have a choice, do I?"

"Everybody has a choice, Gervais. Did I not say this when I talked to you in my car at the beginning of all of this."

Gervais shook his head, the smile completely gone. "Y'know what, you sure know how to bring out the best in a man. I've... definitely changed. I've... been seeing visions..."

"What?" William said quietly.

"Before everybody's deaths I saw visions!" Gervais managed to say. "Before the freaks, before Spikey the Janitors... I saw clues and I never told anybody."

"What!" Jessie exclaimed in anger. "You... saw clues and didn't tell anybody?"

"Oh be quiet." Gervais put a finger in front of Jessie's mouth. "To be honest, I didn't care. I was just a young adult fresh from graduating, who saw a fucking freak vision. But... no-one I saw did I care about one bit. I suppose you could say Dalton was close, but hell, he was as suspicious of me as I was of him. I didn't care about anyone and didn't want to exert effort."

"I don't understand..." Jessie shook his head. "It's your duty, really!"

"Duty?" Gervais let out a bark. "Look, I am not a hero. I am not the kind of guy who runs around solving problems. I am not a nice guy. Hell, frankly speaking, I'm an asshole. I swear, I smoke, I drink, I injure, I _kill._ I did not believe in Death."

"_Did not?_" William repeated.

"Well, I'm sorry, but what do you expect now? I was making excuses, really, to myself. I figured if I didn't believe in Death it wouldn't bother me. By killing Dalton and refusing to accept Death, I fooled myself into a false sense of security. I am certain that if I hadn't taken Dalton's life, I would have died before Scott. I see that now, adding everything up." Gervais took a deep breath. "I am a dumb fuck. I didn't want to be a hero, didn't want to be a fuckin' saviour. I wanted to be myself and earn some money and yeah, if that meant talk shows so what? I want money, I'm 18. But over this last week I've realised the severity of my actions. I goaded Kris on to attack you, I played with his mind, I figured hey, Kris could kill you and I could blame Dalton's death on Kris." Gervais sighed, looking to the ceiling. "Too bad that guilt digs into your mind slowly, but effectively." Gervais raised a hand in front of his face. "I-I killed a man... a person who called himself a friend... and honestly... truly... I still do not care." Gervais closed his hand with an intense look. "I should care. I should be bothered. I should feel guilty but I cannot. Is that the sign that I'm some kind'a future criminal? That I would kill people anyway? That I'm a fuckin' monster? Well... maybe. You say I have a choice. What are they? Well, to keep on running. Running from my fate. The other choice is too..." Gervais closed his eyes. "Too..." Gervais whistled lowly. "Man, this is harder than I expected. To turn myself in. I'd be on death row, certainly... but isn't that what's best? I deserve it, really. I saw these visions, I had chances to save people but I did not. Effectively I murdered each and every person who has died as a result of this. From Spikey to the freak to you. I should be locked away and charged for the reason I don't care. Even now with this... somewhat clichéd speech I do not care what happens to any of you-" Gervais swiped a hand towards Jessie and the rest of the group. "-and I won't care that William dies. I would happily not care. Am I incapable of caring? Of showing emotion? Am... I somehow... how would you say... evil?"

Thick silence filled the air once Gervais finished. The bandaged man stood up and over Gervais, drawing his gaze.

"Man, that brought a tear to my eyes." The man wiped a fake tear away. "But you not what, I call bullshit."

"What?" Gervais looked insulted.

"You do care. You do care about what happens to these people."

"But... I don't. Do you not get that?"

"Ha... haha... hah!" The bandaged man roared in laughter before clutching his bandages. "I wanted to wait for a dramatic moment and I guess this will do. I like waiting for this moments." Ripping his bandages off, the man glared deep into Gervais' eyes. "If you did not care, you would not have saved us. If you didn't care, we wouldn't be alive right now. You walked up to my car, you pointed at my cigarette, and quite pointedly, knowing what was to come, you told me 'don't drop that'." Daniel Falcone grabbed Gervais' shoulders, who was shocked at who the bandaged man really was. "Fuck, because of that, I gave up. Did you not save us, Gervais Jean? Did you not fuckin' save us?"

"You... Daniel..." Gervais blinked slowly. "I don't understand. You died! You were burned to a fuckin' crisp."

"Haha, I wish." Daniel threw his head up in another laugh. "Y'see, William used me as his test subject. He came to me, still burnt from the explosion, and told me about Death. The doctor was William's friend and easily persuaded you kids the 'oh so tragic death of Daniel Falcone'. Meanwhile, I helped another of William's friends to die. I have proved that his theory works and now I can live for longer than I should. I'm glad of that, I really am. The fact still remains, Gervais, is that I believe you do care. You are a saviour, no matter what you think."

William smiled up at Daniel. "Despite the fact my theory that I chose was inhumane, I am indeed glad I found a solution. I never wish to use it again, but-" William broke off, coughing violently so much that his body shook.

"Son, that's enough talking." Darren said sternly.

William waved him off. "Don't be silly father. I'm allowed some last words. And those words are meant for you, Daniel, and you... father." William gritted his teeth before continuing. "I believe you have some more years left in you Darren. And Daniel... I have... told you everything I know about death. I suppose you could say that I've made you an apprentice." William laughed bitterly. "There will be more visionaries. More deaths. More lists. All I ask, Darren, Daniel, guide them. Give them the options and help them as much as possible. Do what I couldn't do." William burst into bloody coughs again, before lying back on his pillow. "I believe the time has come. To all of you, good luck. It's time to follow my siblings down the... endless stream..." William closed his eyes and with a final sigh, the life left him, leaving all the others in the room to contemplate his words.


	43. Epilogue

**42 Chapters. 68,357 words. 225 reviews. Now, for the last chapter! **

**All right! The end of this story is nigh, and I have to say it's been a hell of a story. I'll leave most comments and INFORMATION ON THE NEXT FD PROJECT at the end. **

**Cenobia100 – If you forgot about Daniel, my plan worked XD Nope, there will not be a sequel to this story. Although, of course they'll be another project I'm working on. **

**Jamesss: Nope, no sequel. Look above XD **

**LocalTalent53: Thanks for all the comments, obviously I appreciate them. I'm glad Daniel's effect had that on you, I was hoping for such a response. I'm not entirely sure what went on with Dominique and Samuel, really, I just... didn't use them as I should've. But hey, you always have those kind of characters I think. **

**So, read on for the Epilogue, of Final Destination – The Saviour **

* * *

><p>Gervais bit his knuckle as he waited at home. He was too nervous to do anything other than sit and wait. It had been a hell of an experience for him, for sure. Gervais leaned back in his chair. So much stuff had gone on, good and bad. He had gone a bit crazy and had spawned a media barrage. Only two hours before had he gone on air on the most popular talk show, announced that everything he said was false, and told the police to pick him up at his home.<p>

"Come on..." Gervais muttered, licking his lips as he waited. All in all, he wanted it to be over, and actually have a concrete end to all of this. He wanted to go to prison, get a death sentence, whatever. He wanted it to end.

Finally, after seemingly hours of waiting, a knock on the door draw Gervais' attention. He stood up with anticipation, and took a deep breath. Everything would be set in stone as soon as he opened those doors.

"As long as I don't suffer any more visions. What if the prison blew up and I saw that? Hah." Gervais laughed humourlessly, and looked to the floor. "Nah... this is it, man. This is definitely it. No twists, not turns in the road. Quite simply this is the end of the hottest bad boy at school... or used to be at school..."

The knock came again.

"Fuck it." Gervais shook his head and walked towards the door, grasped the handle and took another deep breath. "Christ this is hard..." Gervais sighed, and was surprised when he felt something hot on his cheeks. Putting his finger to it, he was even more surprised to see liquid... tears... He smiled bitterly, opened the door and presented his wrists.

Soon, handcuffs were slapped around those wrists and he was thrown into the back of police van, on a journey to what would almost certainly be his final destination.

**XXX**

For the first time in as long as she could remember, Dominique sat across her mother. Isadora Elizabeth had been living away on holiday for a long while, and even before that was often away from the family and the city. Dominique could hardly remember what she looked like, sounded like, just... generally what she was like. Now, however, Dominique had tears stained on her cheeks as she listened to her mother.

"W-What are you saying..." Dominique croaked. "What... do you mean..."

"Your father didn't want to tell you. He only told me because I pressed." Isadora said primly. "He was in his final days even before he was killed by that scum. Something to do with the brain, he said. The doctor's hadn't given him a chance, but he continued to do his work."

"I see..." Dominique sniffed, before wiping her eyes with her sleeves. _'That makes sense on why Sam died when he did. He should've been safe, but he only inherited my father's last days.' _

"I-I... I have quit my job." Isadora said, holding her daughter's hands. Dominique looked up in surprise. "You have always been an independent child, but me and your father didn't give you the time that you deserved. I want to repay that, and I want to be a full-time mother to you, Dominique. I want to be the parent you so rightly deserve. I fear it's too late... but... but I hope not."

Dominique stared for a moment at her mother, before breaking out into a smile and bursting forward, grabbing Isadora in a deep hug. "Thank you... thank you... t-thank..." Dominique dissolved into tears, and kept her head buried in Isadora's shoulder. Isadora merely patted her daughter on the back, holding back her own emotions and being strong for her daughter, for the first time in a very long time.

**XXX**

"No way..." Jovianne looked shocked as she saw the door hanging slightly ajar.

Jessie shook his head, grasping the doorway in equal shook. Flashes of red, of blood, of Brandon's mutilated body filled his mind. "No, not again!" Jessie pushed open the door and charged up the stairs, ignoring all the other rooms but stopping outside Brandon's bedroom. Jessie rapped on Brandon's door. "Brandon! Brandon!"

No reply.

Images rolled around in Jessie's mind. A hanging rope, more razors, a bath full of blood, Brandon's dead, lifeless body. "No!" Jessie pushed open the door, and his eyes widened even further. Red covered the bed sheets, as if someone had drained the blood off of a big animal. It stained the floor in deep, reflective pools.

"N-N-No..." Jovianne shivered, and clutched Jessie's arm. Jessie turned to the bathroom, and saw red footprints leading to the bathroom. Jessie mentally put strength in himself, before stepping gingerly forward and reaching for the door handle...

The door opened, almost smacking Jessie straight in the face. Jovianne pulled Jessie back, and they both stared at Brandon, standing there in a red-stained white apron, looking completely confused.

"Eh? You two?" Brandon looked at their scared faces, then to the red-stained bed, then to the faces again before putting two and two together. "Oh Christ, no, no, it's not like that." Brandon lurched forward and grabbed a plastic container from the corner. "I completely knocked over a bucket of red paint from the cabinet, all over myself and the floor. It's not... what you think... It's not blood... paint... it's just paint."

Jessie was slack-jawed, his arm hanging slackly. He blinked slowly, before letting out a small chuckle. Jovianne giggled, before both of them burst out in relieved laughter.

Jessie reached forward and grabbed Brandon's shoulder. "Holy crap man, do not scare us like that..." he gasped, trying to bury the laughter. "We thought..." Jessie shook his head and clutched his stomach. He took a few moments to regain himself, before looking up at Brandon. "Oh... what caused you to use so much paint?"

Brandon thrust a thumb behind him, and again, Jovianne and Jessie's eye widened. The previously unfinished piece of art was completely finished, covering the wall.

It featured seemingly hundreds upon hundreds of zombies, merging down from every side, heading straight for the middle of the wall. It was in this section that seventeen individual figures stood, fighting off the zombies and doing a very good job of it.

Jessie leaned forward, noticing a familiar black-skinned man. It was a painted William, holding up what seemed to be a bastard sword. It was then Jessie noticed that all the figures were the very survivors of the school explosion. Daniel with a flaming torch, Christopher with a kitchen knife, Michelle with an intense look in her eye... everyone. Jessie was there, seemingly pulling Jovianne away from the clawing figures. Scott stood at the helm, shouting out orders and looking like a hero without a speck of blood on him. Even Kris and Gervais were in the picture, viciously dismembering the undead.

In the corner, in black letters, was a list of names, headed by: **Rest in Peace. **The names were as follows:

**Sam Mariano  
>Michelle Johnson<br>Zoe Anderson  
>Christopher Palacios<br>Thomas White  
>Elliot Spikey<br>Dalton DiLaurentis  
>Scott North<br>Samuel Jenkins  
>Kris Thomas<br>William Bludworth**

"Oh wow..." Jessie muttered as he and Jovianne looked at the fantastic piece of art.

"This is perfect Brandon..." Jovianne said brightly. "Completely brilliant..."

Brandon looked pleased with himself but tried to hide it. "Oh, I, uh, got excited last night. I figured this would work well. After all, each of us is a survivor, each of us fought for our own opinions, our own views. Despite certain peoples actions, they still did it for the best."

"Have you got a title for it?" Jessie asked.

"No, no, not yet."

"Oh, I know!" Jovianne said quickly. "How about the Survival of the Saviours? It's got a nice ring to it, and in a way, each of us were saviours. We wanted to help people and succeeded sometimes."

"I think that's suitable." Jessie nodded.

"Then that's as it should be." Brandon quickly grabbed black paint, and on top in big, black, bold letters wrote: **Survival of the Saviours. **

After Brandon was finished, Jessie took a breath and looked to the two. "So. What have we decided?" The question quickly made tension fill the room.

"I think the answers simple." Jovianne finally said. "We make the most out of our lives. We live as we should, with our families, our friends. I don't want to trap myself in some kind of Asylum, or always be scared of Death. I say we live without fear. Live in happiness. Become normal teenagers who are not scared of something we can't control."

Both Brandon and Jessie smiled at this.

"And if," Jovianne continued quietly. "If we are... involved in an accident, that will be normal. That will be what's meant to happen. But if we die, we die knowing that we are happy with our current lives."

"You'd make a good public speaker." Jessie laughed, before sighing. "So, it's about time we cast that fear out of our minds, isn't it?"

Brandon nodded. "From now on, we live without fear."

"We'll die in happiness, if we have to die." Jovianne finished. "I'm not sure I could ask for anything different."

**The End **

* * *

><p><strong>All right! So, Final Destination - The Saviour is over! To be perfectly honest, this has been my favourite Final Destination story to write so far. I loved the characters, and it definitely developed as I went on. It was definitely a fun journey, and I hope you enjoyed the journey as well<strong>

**So, what is my next Final Destination project? Well, I'll give you a preview:**

_All her life, Dorothy Louella has never been afraid of darkness. While other's shivered in their blankets or kept their lights on, Dorothy embraced it, grew to love it, and grew up with it from the very day she was born. Dorothy is no stranger to darkness after all, as she has been blind from birth._

_She has never experienced the colour and vibrancy of the world, but when she is hit with a vision of a devastating accident, she doesn't know what to make of it. Can she fight through the strangeness of this colourful, strange, and threatening world around her, or will everything as she knows it fall to the force known simply as Death? _

**This story will be called: Final Destination – Revelations. I will submit it likely next week, or even sooner. Depends. **

**Thank you all, I hope you've enjoyed this fan fiction, and that you will continue to view and review Final Destination – Revelations! Goodbye and thank you! **


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